ethnography:train ride

We walk onto the Red Line Train into South Station. Mario, Will, and I, ready for a night on the town. Will in his usual black sweatshirts, Brooklyn hat, and black Batman gloves to match the Batman tattoo on his chest. Mario’s sporting a nice corduroy type jacket cracking himself up as usual, his cackle incomparable to anyone else’s laugh.
A couple benches down two college girls are gossiping about boys while they text at the same time. Both are blonde and wearing light colored sweatshirts. The only real difference between them seems to be their footwear. The one standing up is in Pink boots and the seated girl has black Uggz warming her feet.
A middle aged Asian woman in a red winter coat hops onto the train and plops herself down next to the door. On the opposite side of the door a woman in a white jacket is entranced by a black book with no title. The train stops and the girl in the pink boots exits.
At the other end of the car a twenty-something black male in designer jeans is enjoying some beats. An older Asian woman rests her hands on her suitcase, as she sits patiently next to a young boy who is probably her grandson. I lock eyes with the girl sitting across from me. After a second she goes back to admiring the scenery. The rough blue brush strokes on a water tower form the silhouette of an ancient Zen master, looking into Boston.
“Someone should make a movie about someone crazy hijacking a train. Like Kurt Russell in Death Proof” says Mario.
“They just did. It was called The Taking of Pelham 123. John Travolta plays the crazy guy and Denzel Washington is the train operator. John Travolta’s son just died actually” Will responds.
“He had a son?”
Multi-family homes with battered porches zip past the windows as we roll through Dorchester. The woman with the white coat exits when we arrive at JFK/UMASS, book and purse in hand.
Intercom:”Next stop Andrew.”
The blonde girl with the black boots is bumping her iPod; she pulls out her earphones and says, “Congratulations, isn’t that just great?” She is practically yelling on her phone and eventually loses service as another train goes by.
Intercom: “Next stop Broadway.”
There is a weathered newspaper on the seat across from me. “What stop are we getting off? “
“Park Street, then we are going on the E line.”Mario replied.