Nasty Hippie Train Girl

Oh, the joys of meeting new people on the train. One day you could be seating to someone who does not want to be bothered even if the train is on fire or you could be sitting next to a Chatty Cathy who will tell you everything about their life, no matter how personal it is.

On the way home from work one day, Christi, Zach, and I were looking for a place to sit on the train when we saw three open seats in a four top section. The person who was there had her headphones on and seemed to be listening to music.

While Christi, Zach, and I were talking, the girl, who was dressed like a hippie, asked me to listen to her band. I did and complimented her music. She immediately asked me to compare her band to a popular band. I told her that it sounded like Broken Social Scene (which is an awesome band by the way, but her band was not) and she seemed to be very grateful of the answer.

The girl then quickly put on her headphones and started to listen to more music, or at least, that is what I thought. As Christi, Zach and I were talking, the girl would interrupt at random parts of our conversation with even more random insane thoughts of her own.

At one point of her annoying views of life, she started to go on a rant about people eating sandwiches on the train. The nasty hippie girl stated that it was very rude and unsanitary. As she kept on going on and on, she reached into her huge over sized purse and took out a tambourine and a small can of tuna fish. As she kept on with her anti sandwich speech, she opened up the small can of tuna and started to eat the tuna out of the can with her fingers.

The more passionate she became about the sandwiches, the more tuna she would stuff in her mouth and then spit it out while talking. Our table quickly resembled the front row of a Gallagher concert. The smell alone would make anyone want to jump off the moving train to their death instead of suffering one more minute of that horrendously nauseating odor.

It had to be the longest 30 minute train ride I have ever experienced, until she stood up. As Christi and I were getting off at our train stop, Nasty Hippie Girl decided that this would be the best time to stand up and attempt to talk about all of her body art. I would say tattoos, but she hates that term more than she hates sandwiches.

When make up free Nasty Hippie Girl stood up, her three sizes too small of a shirt was clinging to each piece of thread like its life depended on it. Christi and I quickly excused ourselves as we were getting out of our seats.

I am always one to meet new people, but there is no way in hell that I want to sit with that crazy girl again.