My wife and daughter are waiting for the Red Line going south at Howard. Howard is the beginning (and end) of the Red Line.
A woman gets on the car with them. Wearing pajamas, a bathrobe and sneakers. She looks like the stereotypical white trash lady – about 30 years old, long, greasy blond hair, and a red red nose. Coke snortin’ red.
She makes her way slowly down the aisle. She had the demeanor of a Jesus freak, overly friendly and cheery, like a Mormon. She stopped at each passenger and asked:
“Do you have a cigarette?”
She didn’t get one.