Public transportation is not for the faint of heart. In the past few days, I haven't seen anything too extreme, but here, even the milder encounters are amusing: A woman petting a leafy green plant potted in a Campbell's soup can; a pretty, normal-looking teenage girl in a checkered dress who began belting out all the words to Salt 'n' Pepa's "None of Your Business" really loudly, to herself; a man with a horrific combover who stood almost nose-to-glass with the sliding doors for the entire three-stop duration of his ride. "Stand back, please: doors closing," but he didn't.
And then there was the anti-genocide vigil we attended today outside the Sudanese embassy - a gaggle of white middle- to upper-class Jews dressed in their business casual best, holding signs that read, "I stand with the people of Darfur" and "Honk 4 Darfur." When passersby honked, we didn't know how to react - you can't cheer, like you're at some high school carwash fundraiser, can you? So we just gave small waves & nods of appreciation, looked a little uncomfortable, continued recapping the weekend's festivities & anticipating our next Starbucks fix.
On the way to pick up my grandenowhipblueberries&cremefrappucino, I wondered whether the scraggly-looking man wearing the Darfur sandwich-board signs, the one wandering the street beside us, was stupid enough (devoted enough?) to actually tattoo of a green & red cross onto his forehead in permanent ink.
I'm trying not to be so vapid.
Sometimes I have a hard time.