This Week in Transit: Mostly Mass, Some Otherwise.

People fascinate me.

I'll admit it. I watch people on the train. It is hard not to, but we all try to pretend we are in our own little worlds and no one else can affect us, especially that crazy guy picking his nose at the end of the row. But it just isn't true. At least not for me. Maybe I'm not "New York" enough.

This week on the train was more eventful than most *maybe because I'm currently at a loss for reading material.* I hope the following list of characters amuses you as much as it amused me.

• Haitian Man: Six and a half feet tall with legs like tree trunks. Herringbone pants with pointed leather shoes. Spoke french. Absolutely gorgeous.
  
• Gypsy Woman: Short and rotund. Long patchwork animal print dress, leopard print scarf, multicolored woven coat, and seashell ring. Short, spiky blond hair. About 55. Sat with legs spread apart, underneath her floor length skirt. Looked sage-like.
  
• Man #1: Average looking. Wore jeans and a sweater, or something equally less noticeable. Pulled out a boom box from underneath him. Listened to it with headphones. I thought, "Bad ass! Way to fight the man. You don't need an ipod." Unplugged the headphones. Played a song from "Motown Christmas" for the entire train. I thought, "Asshole."
  
• Jamaican Cowboy: Thin. Wore dreadlocks and a black leather jacket. With fringe. And a bolo. And Wranglers.
  
• Teenage Girl: Fat. Asleep. Wore a white, puffy jacket. Zipped all the way up to her lips. As she drifted further and further into dreams her head would slide back, searching for a resting place. Her bottom lip, however, would get stuck on the inside of her white, puffy jacket and expose her teeth like a horse. Every single time.
  
• Man #2: Large, older, statuesque man. With a very round face. Could have been someones uncle. Except for the fact that he had on sunglasses that I own. Outrageous sunglasses. Women's sunglasses. Illustrated below.

These people make my hour long train ride much more tolerable, but it is still an hour long train ride. So, sometimes I drive to work. Even though I have to pay tolls. Because it takes half the time, and sleep is important.

I'm sure it comes to you as no surprise that traffic in New York City is awful. And the drivers are even worse.

Also, as no surprise, I encountered an awful driver in a Porsche last night. He was weaving in and out of traffic. I saw him nearly get into an accident twice. He rolled down his window *in 20 degree weather* to yell at people. As I passed him, I saw he had spectacles on the tip of his nose and was reading the New York Times. I thought, "Asshole."

There were other much less notably awful drivers, as always. Someone cuts me off. I honk my horn. I make an expletive gesture. *Yes I'm not always proud of who I am when I'm on the highway.* But by far, the worst driver I have seen to date, and I wish I were exaggerating, was a small bus labeled "Cerebral Palsy Transport." Sad but true.

I leave you this frigid Saturday morning with pictures from my trip home for Thanksgiving. Robert's mother has a pet goat *I love the South.* It is still a baby, just 3 months old I believe. I had no idea how cute goats really are. They totally want to snuggle. Just watch out for the horns.