While riding the "L" in Chicago, I interacted with a great variety of people. There were a few people I tried to avoid interacting with.
- There's the guy that gets down on his knees and starts begging for help. He says his daughter is dying. I don't know if he is lying or not. I avoid making eye contact. If she is really dying, I don't think my quarter is going to bring her back. I say a prayer.
- There's the guy decked out in Kansas City Royals apparel. It's easy to engage in conversation when I can start talking to him about their line up.
- There's the guy headed to the Royals-Sox game. He's not a fan of either team. He's in town because Chicago is the town his in-laws live in. He things it's a great city, but any time off he and his wife have are spent there. He uses the ballgame to escape.
- There's the subway preacher. I wish I could tell him, "Great job displaying," your faith, but he's annoying the heck out of me. If I didn't already know God, I'm sure I would be running the other direction.
- There's the beautiful girl who falls into my lap. She apologizes. I don't mind so much. A guy near us yells, "Dude, you didn't even have to by her a drink first." Her and I smile at each other. I probably turn as red as a firetruck. It doesn't end like the movies. The story stops right there.
- There's two twenty something girls, their mother and and their aunt. At the beginning of the 45 minute ride to the airport, I find out one of them now lives in Chicago, but the other three are headed back home to Oklahoma. We talk about everything. They impress me and I believe I impressed them. If we lived a little closer, I'm sure I'd be close friends with the family.