I forgot to take a picture of my foot stuck in the Metro escalator. So, like all good crime stories, I have recreated the scene. X marks the spot.[/raw]
As I arrived at the surface from my subway commute, suddenly, a short, old woman, dressed in a mid February coat, crossed my path. "Pfeh," she said in her Slavic-sounding accent, "to you and your descendants!" I ignored her. But I had been cursed. And I hadn't even reached my cubicle yet.
Strange things began to happen; sudden
Chapter One: An Interaction With a Teenager
Earlier this morning I dropped my younger daughter off at school to take the ACT test. As we got into the car she immediately turned the radio to her favorite station. Mumford & Sons' Believe was playing. Now, trying to connect with my 17 year old is always an iffy thing. Will I get merely grunts and groans to anything I say or a brisk reaction meant to shut down any conversation? I never know. The terrain is a minefield. Yet, I choose to traverse
I had a wonderful commute on the DC Metro this morning. A few stops into my ride a group of teenagers boarded the already crowded car. Listening to them speak German, I discovered they were from Austria (picking up the word "Österreich" in their chatter numerous times). I took German in college. While I'm not fluent in any language other than English and Pig Latin, I can often know a phrase and can say it with such a good accent that people think I'm fluent. This is often problematic when
This is Glenda.
The morning commute was ending like all weekday commutes. As I shoved my way to the surface it was time to start thinking about work: the fires I needed to put out or needed to start. I didn't look forward to either, quite frankly. I'm a risk taker but lately it's been in remission. "If I can just get through the day without making waves," I thought, "my day will be a success." (And it was only Wednesday.) I looked around at my fellow commuters climbing the stairs to the top, I
Twitter allows you to send missives to your followers in 140 character bursts. For a storyteller these are often exercises in learning to be economical with one's words with the greatest amount of impact. Today I tried but a story unfolded in the subway that begged for just a little bit more. This required three successive tweets. Sometimes a tale demands just a little bit more. Here is my 376 character Twitter trilogy.
Mr OCD's on subway. How do I know? He told me last time. He's nice & strikes
When I was in San Francisco last week for meetings I stayed with good friends in Noe Valley. Being a seasoned commuter I left the house each morning precisely at 7:55 and walked down to Market Street to catch the MUNI downtown. My Bay Area mornings were like every workday morning for me --a walk and then a hop onto mass transit.
And when I got onto my train I appeared to do what every San Franciscan did. I pretended to be in my own little world (as I pretend to do every morning on my commute from