Friday, 5:10 p.m.

Got on the brown line for one straight shot home. Had no money on my card and one card machine was working with a line of five people. I had immediately panicked when I saw the train in the station (like I was in a rush or something) but it was the other train. Finally got my turn and finished right when my beloved brown line pulled up.

The train was crowded and there were a lot of people waiting for this train. I went to what to what I call the hole which is where on the brown line -- the only place I have seen this -- they have a real handicapped spot for a full wheelchair. Even a wheelchair with those leg things.

I took out my book, The Bourne Identity, and faced the elderly/handicapped seated holding onto the provided pole. There was a baldin man a little younger than me sitting there who would go between a faux nap and talking about his evening plan like he was negotiating the Versailles treaty. Quotes like "I don't you really want to invite Max and Susan if they fucking dont want them to be there. They will be like 'Who the fuck are they?'" Back to nap then "Hey dude, yeah that's what we're fucking doing."

On my other side were two young women. One had that nasally voice that gives young twenty-somthing women a bad wrap b/c NOBODY wants to listen to her. Her friend had this more masculine almost nothing matter to me voice. Obviously, the nasally woman was more interested in talking to the man-voice one than vice versa. The interesting thing about the first half of their conversation was that it was about puppet shows. Not "I have seen a puppet show" but intricate detail into the production of a puppet show. The manvoice woman said "she could only manage one puppet where Christopher has a bunch." They even talked about puppet auditions.

Then, as the ride wore on and the manwoman became bored with her companion, the conversation switched to how lucky you are to wear jeans to work - a favorite topic of the 9-5er. Not that I condemn this, I too have said things like "at least we get to wear jeans on Friday" never realizing that my job is pretty good since I don't have to say "at least my manager does not whip me."

These two women also work in the Sears tower which has its own prestige about it. Which floor you work is key to the Sears Tower hierarchy. The manvioce woman HATES being so high up and can feel the building move on windy days.

The conversation ended for me with the nasally woman whining about how she didnt know when she was getting picked up for dinner. Then it was my stop.