singley.org > blog archives > Talk to Me 07.09.2003

Some days, I must exude a "talk to me" vibe. It always seems to come in waves: I'll be sitting on the train or walking down the street and people will approach and start chatting. It may be a simple question about an L stop, or a comment about the Cubs, but there have been a few notable and more fun exceptions. Like when I got whistled at (by one man and two women, mind you) three times in the span of 20 minutes. I wasn't wearing anything special or sporting a new haircut, I don't think. Maybe I looked especially confident, or was emanating some sexy chemical?

Then there was the time that a man on the train to Midway told me, unprompted, all about this job as an air traffic controller. It was an interesting enough conversation, but then it took an uncomfortable turn. He launched into an anecdote about how a guy in the tower got fired for doing, um, inappropriate things with his body while on duty. Then he started giving me a few too many details about his alone-time activities. He wasn't overtly obscene, but it was way too much information from a random dude on the orange line.

The other night, however, was the most dramatic random encounter. I was sitting on a bench on the Fullerton red line platform reading, waiting for a northbound train. Suddenly, a police officer comes bounding up the stairs, hand on gun, and yells to me "did you miss the train?!" I wasn't really sure what he meant by this. I mean, I didn't really miss the train, I just didn't get there early enough for the last one, but was waiting for the next which would be arriving shortly. After blinking at him for a second, trying to figure out what kind of information he wanted, I said "no, but the last train just went by about 3 minutes ago." Then, two more cops appeared on the other side of the tracks, also running around and out of breath. And then more on my side. In the span of about 20 seconds, the L platform had gone from having zero cops running around on it to about a dozen. There were all yelling instructions to one another, listening to walkie-talkies and looking for anything suspicious, I guess. When the next train came, they all ran on, searching for someone. The train stood while they did their search, and after I felt sure that I wasn't going to get caught in a crossfire, I walked on and sat down. And of course, when I did, someone started talking to me. A teenager said, "They're looking for you, man! I saw what you did!" Umm, yeah. I played along: "Yeah, I thought I could just sneak on casually so they wouldn't suspect anything." He wasn't really expecting this, so didn't say anything to me after that and instead started hitting on the girl sitting in front of him.

I'm getting on the train home pretty soon. Maybe my hair, or clothes, or smell, or swagger will be inviting strangers to talk to me again today.

hehe... good stuff.

Of course people talk to you... it's the MIDWEST.