Metro Crazy

I was sitting on the metro this morning, trying to defrost and not make eye contact with the crazies surrounding me, when the doors opened and Well-Dressed Crazy (hereafter "WDC") sat down next to me.  Suit, nicely-coiffed, calf-length dress coat, leather gloves.  Seemingly normal.

As goes with the Red Line, there are often delays.  So, when we arrived at the next stop and the doors stayed open longer than usual, I wasn't surprised.  My bench-mate, however, had not mentally prepared himself for this situation and let out an audible huff and shrugged at the door as if to say, "YOU MORON...WHAT ARE YOU DOING???"

Next stop, same delay.  This time, WDC snarled, clenched his hands into fists and started shaking them by his side like a Tickle-Me-Elmo, grumbling something like, "...always trying to make us late...why do they do that...making us late..."

Next stop, same delay.  WDC is poised to pop.  He manages to keep it together at first...but it is evident that a nascent rage is brewing in his belly.  Finally he says, "My GOD, what is WRONG with this train?!" as he thrusts his hands, fingers elongated, in front of his chest like Kevin Pollack mimicking an over-dramatic William Shatner.  I continue with my Angry Birds, fearing for my life.

(btw, forgot to mention that this guy looks like Mortimer Duke from Trading Places with a voice just a shade higher than Barry White's.  That paint a better picture for you?)

By the next stop it is apparent that WDC is ready to engage the train staff, conductor, and possibly even the train itself in mortal combat.  The doors, as with the previous three stops, were open an extra few seconds longer than normal, causing my bench mate--still surprised by the delay, mind you--to spew forth with a tirade of grumbled admonishments that may or may not have been in English.  I was busy slowly flexing my muscles in an attempt to get a stretch in before I would be tackled to the ground in blind rage.  Just when I thought the end was nigh, the gentleman to WDC's right said to him:

"They said we'd be delayed by a few minutes here and there."

I fully expected WDC to pull out the man's heart where he sat, Indiana Jones-style.  But, like a crying baby given a bottle, my crazed compadre relaxed his shoulders, unclenched his fists, raised his eyebrows and calmly said, "Oh, really?  Ok," and went about sitting on our bench staring at the opposing wall as if he had not a care in the world.

*sigh*
Happy Wednesday.