Commuter #2


(late 20s/early 30s Caucasian male in hoodie, on his cell phone)

Hon, I’m on line.  Yeah, about 7:30, if I’m lucky.

He hit his head? Where, in the front or the back? Rocking back and forth? Shit. This is not good. When you left the house? I think you have to tie him to it. This is the second time that happened. No, you have to do it so you can leave the house.

I told him not to do those renovations—he doesn’t own the place. Why would you put so much work into it? Yeah like he knows what problems are—he has money. He’s got it easy. Well, he can afford to buy the house. He doesn’t know what problems are.

Yeah, yeah. So what is he doing now? Is he near the window? You’ve got to shut it—it’s cold. I dunno, you’re the one who’s with him. What did he eat today?

It’s ass cheek to ass cheek here. What do you want me to do? I don’t run Port Authority.

Is he playing with that toy from Nana? You know, the Fuzzy Bear. No, well, maybe he’s afraid of bears. What about the turtle? Maybe we’ll get him a puppy. The hypoallergenic kind. They’ve got one at the shelter. What’re they called?

Either that, or don’t leave the house anymore. It’s only for 20 minutes, right?

Like I said, he doesn’t know what problems are. He can afford it.

Yeah, I have the Monday off. What do you wanna do? The movies? You’re taking your life in your hands. We could get shot for texting, or for just BEING there. Too many people. I don’t like being hemmed in.