Today on the light rail, I met a pirate.
I was completely tired and did not feel like riding the rail today, but I had no other choice. It was way too cold, so I knew finding a seat on the train would be difficult. Fortunately there were a few seats left. Unfortunately, I was welcomed to a seat by a man that not only reeked of alcohol, but needed a visit to the dentist office really bad.
Pirate: “mornin’ lady”
I mumble a not-so-pleasant gmornin back to him.
Pirate: “why so down?”
Me: “I’m tired.”
I’m still wearing my sunglasses at this point to avoid eye-contact, of course.
Pirate: “You knows what I can do to cheer ya up?”
Me: “I’m not unhappy, I’m just sleepy.”
Pirate: “well dis be sure to wake ya up!”
At this point, I feel like this man looks just like a pirate. Not like Captain Jack Sparrow, but the dirty pirates that you see when you go on the ride at Disneyland. He pulls out a bottle, concealed in it’s paper brown bag.
Pirate: “ya wanna swig of whiskey?”
Me: “It’s 9 am and I’m already late for work…no thank you.”
Pirate: “it ain’t ever to early for somethin to drink!”
Me: “Yes…it’s 9 am and I didn’t even eat breakfast yet.”
Pirate: “Whiskey is the breakfast of champions”
He says this with a wide grin, showing his rotten teeth. I begin to hope there’s not a parrot flying around somewhere.
Pirate: “Where ya headed this morn’?”
Me: “work.”
Pirate: “Where ya work?”
Me: “The Med Center.”
Pirate: “You a doctor?”
Me: “umm no..”
Pirate: “Whatcha do?”
Me: “It’s too complex.”
Pirate: “Ohhh Some sort of top secret nuclear bomb work?”
I begin to ignore this man because he’s just drunk and not making any sense. REALLY? Bomb work in the med center? That’s just ridiculous.
Pirate: “Ya seem a little tense, you sure you don’t want just a little swig?”
Me: “Not at all.”

The Pirate starts rambling some nonsense and I try to avoid him by checking up on twitter, until I realize he’s standing up and trying to climb over me. I quickly stand up to avoid an inappropriate brush of male body parts. As soon as I stand up out of the isle, he falls over onto the row across the way. His bottle falls out of his hands and onto the floor of the train. As it rolls down the aisle, the smell of whiskey causes the whole train to look our way. He stands up grabs his bottle, and gives a rather rude grunt sounding much like a “RRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrr” as he exits the train.