People all over the world, join hands, start a love train, love train

Guess where I didn't want to join hands with anyone?
The Rock Island Metra train at 8:23 am yesterday morning.

Here begins Part One of the tale of my travels to my very first big girl job interview...

8:00 am: I arrive at 103rd street station 23 minutes early (thanks, dad). And yes, I did have my dad drive me, solely to save me the embarrassment of trying to parallel park Lenny in one of the residential areas. Trying to park that road sofa is truly impossible, which is why I usually just throw him into park wherever I please and pray the police will assume some meek 95 year old woman just misplaced her vehicle...

8:10: I mosey on over to The Coffee Shop (creative, I know), encountering the CUTEST little old man in a camel color suit. Slay me. I wanted to just pack him up into my bag and keep him safe forever. I also manage, in the 3 minutes, 30 seconds I was there to spill creamer all over the counter and burn the entire roof of my mouth with what was apparently lava flavored coffee.

8:15: Sitting on a bench in my skirt suit, accompanied by giant black "Jackie O" style sunglasses, listening to the "Evita" soundtrack (hey, you can take the girl out of the theater, but you can never take the theater/diva/natural inclination to stand on a balcony and sing to the invisible Argentinian masses out of the girl). I am anxiously awaiting the train, not out of excitement, but out of pure anxiety. I hate when trains approach the station because they are so incredibly loud and fast that I just panic, despite taking the train over 100 times in my life.

8:25: Two minutes late. Thanks a lot, Metra. I situate myself in a nice little seat, hang up my blazer to avoid wrinkles, and begin to thumb through a 9 month old Shape magazine I found in my night stand earlier that morning.

(Disclaimer: I often find that my life is very much akin to that fairly new MTV show "Quiet Library." For those of you who are not familiar, the premise of the show is to document the stamina of contestants in how long they can stay quiet while being asked to do hysterical tasks. It really is quite funny. Alas, my life is very much the same--being put in situations alone where I have to endure insane people/events around me and not be able to comment or laugh. )

8:27-8:50: The train conductor obviously lets all the oddballs at every stop know where I am sitting so they can surround me and subsequently make me blush for the entirety of the trip. My personal favorite:Oh yes, ladies and gentleman, that is not only a calf length tube sock and black pleather sneaker, but also a real nice diamond patterned pair of tights. This woman only comes in second place to the young lass who audibly sang the entirety of "Bohemian Rhapsody" in the seat in front of me, but I could not get it on video to post here. This woman, who I've affectionately named "Sneaks," also gets the gold medal because she a.) put on her tube sock and pleather gym shoes on the train and b.) removed said items from a Thomas the Train tote bag. Yes, I said it--THOMAS. THE. TRAIN. Where do these people come from? Wherever it is...I'm so glad they exist.


9:03--The train pulls into the station. Sneaks sprints off down the aisle, naturally, since she's clearly training to be the front runner in the Chicago marathon. The lead singer in the Queen cover band is asleep and murmuring to herself in her seat as I gather my things to embark upon Chicago.

I put on my sunglasses. I smooth my hair. I'm ready to take this city by storm...

Until I stepped clear out of my high heels in the train station, as if I had been raptured and taken to the heavens.

To be continued...