If the thin blue line represents the line between order and anarchy, the Blue Line train is named appropriately.
Granted, there is more order than anarchy, but within the constraints of an operating train line, the riders are in the borderland.
Yes, I will freely admit I am a car driver. I rode the train to avoid parking hassles since the stop was a mere block from the conference I was attending.
I just sort of thought that everyone on the train would have shoes. But there I was, sitting across from a woman with only socks on her feet, no shoes nearby. Her jeans were covered in red pen ink marks. She was barely able to stay awake.
The next day, I was in a car with a muttering man, who cursed fairly steadily for two stops before getting off and throwing a plastic cup into the roof of the platform.
Is it just my luck or is this normal?
