Train Dwellers

What do you call the people that you see always in the train (or bus for all you commute n00bz out there) every morning, getting on at the same stop, always sitting in the same place (If given a choice) and never speaking to anyone? Or never speaking to me I might directly state…

Well… I’ve just decided that the proper term for that should be “Train Dwellers”, since the train is (supposed to be) a clockwork regular thing that is hard to miss. I used the word Dweller, since we never really do anything other than just sit, take up place and just exist in the 55 – 120 minutes we spend in the infernal Iron worm, getting ourselves down to the designated areas where we earn our keep.

I just wish someone would think the words “That’s IT! I’ve had it with this infernal silence!” and start talking. Although, with my luck, I’ll end up not understanding a word of what they say, and they end up being ashamed to have said anything and me not understanding that they wow never to speak again.

“Why don’t you take the first step then?” some of you dear readers (numbering an average of 2 a day, one I’m sure being my Mom - Hi Mom!) might ask in a loud and insistent voice… “Maybe everyone is just shy to approach you, in your black and slightly worn winter coat that really should be tossed by now… Ever thought about that?”. Well… I have, and I have also learned that unless it’s a REALLY bored 19 year old, the chances of me finding someone on this train that dare speak English and not thinking they suck at it, is about the same as me winning on the 649 Lottery here. (Winning chance for the highest win is probably somewhere around 1:17.000.000)

So yea… Do I take my train time and simply write these blog entries, or do I risk winning? Well… My Train Posse and I say: Bring it on, Loto-Quebec, Bring It On!