Today on the light rail, I thought I was going to die.

I love the days when I get to ride a “double train”. This means I actually have room to breath and sit. Today I was sitting near a couple looking at the want ads in the greensheet and a man who used a few backpacks to take up the seat next to him. I paid no attention to either of them until I saw something shiny out of the corner of my eye.

A knife.

I should probably inform you I never grew up around weapons of any sort. My family didn’t hunt, fish, or do anything outdoors for that matter. The first time I cut open an animal was on a fishing trip with my boyfriend my freshman year of college. I shot skeet once and asked to take one of the orange skeet things home. I couldn’t even tell you what I used to shoot said skeet, all I know is it hurt my shoulder and I vowed never to touch a gun of any sort ever again….well except the kiddy shotguns I cleaned at the summer camp I worked at. Regardless, I have no concept of weaponry of ANY kind.

I’ve had a pocket knife once when I was an Assistant Director at the beforementioned summer camp, but only because it was small and UT-orange. I think I used the scissors on it once. This man did NOT have a pocket knife. He had a knife you use to stab things. My heart began to race as soon as he pulled out his weapon of choice.

Was I really going to die on public transportation?

REALLY?

Can a knife kill people or just wound them?

All of these thoughts began to race through my mind and I was contemplating if it was time to say a few prayers. In that moment, I realized this homeless man was using his knife to cut the straps on his backpack. He was just being resourceful. I found myself staring at him and his knife with my mouth wide open. We made eye contact and he quickly put his knife away and gave me a half-way grin. He tied the two straps of his backpack together to make it more purse-like.

I was safe. He was harmless. And maybe I should take a class in weaponry…

Pocket knives can be this big?

Today on the light rail, I met a member of Vince Young’s family.

One of the few good things about my job is I can wear pretty much whatever I want, knowing that half of my clothes will be ruined by acid and/or other reagents. Today, I opted to wear a University of Texas shirt, along with my white linen pants that will probably be ruined by the time I get home.

…………..now that you all know what I am wearing and don’t have to ask like a creeper…………

Back to the topic at hand. I spent my entire weekend celebrating my brother’s graduation from UT. Yes, I come from a family of 4 kids who have now officially all received a degree from THE University of Texas. So I naturally woke up this morning feeling that Longhorn pride. I was being pretty lazy on my walk to the light rail and for once didn’t run to catch the train, thus I was the first person at the platform for the next train.

I’m sitting down when a homeless man approaches me.
Man: “You a longhorn?”
No, I just like wearing a color that doesn’t match with anything except white or brown.
Me: “yup.”
Man: “You go to skool der?”
Me: “Yup.”
Man: “When you be der?”
Me: “2004-2008.”
Man: “Man you was der when VY was der. Dats my cousin.”

Let’s take a break to examine this conversation. How many cousins does Vince Young ACTUALLY have? I feel like he has multiple friends on Facebook that write on his wall using the word “cousin”. Or, multiple people I encountered in Austin would tell me that Vince Young was their “cousin”. Is this a term of endearment or does Vince really come from that big of a family?

Me: “Cool.”
Train arrives and we both step on…
AnotherMan (throws up the hook ‘em horns sign): “Hook ‘Em!!”
Man: “Yeah thas what I’m talkin bout. You go to football games?”
I quickly ignored this man once the train arrived so I didn’t realize he was talking to me…
Man: “What..now you be ignorin me?”
Me: “Oh didn’t know you were talking to me. Yes I did/do sometimes.”
Man: “I always wanted to go. How much do tickets cost?”
Me: “I dunno like $90 or something. I had season tickets through my brother.”
Man: “DAYYYYYUUUMMMM. That sh^t be esspensivveeee.”
I turn my attention to the homeless man that gets on at the next stop. His buddies tell him he better swipe his card, so he rushes off the train and the doors close.
HomelessMan’sBuddy: “Dat boy gunna miss him some grits!!!!!”
Man: “MAN I love dem grits down there too!”

So my longhorn pal and another homeless man babble over the breakfast food at the approaching soup kitchen. I can’t help but notice both of these men are carrying cell phones.

Moral of the story: Longhorn or not, why can’t you just order a pizza with your cell phone instead of going to the soup kitchen?

Today on the light rail, I met the most BRILLIANT panhandler.  Genius, I tell you.  I’m telling you this is EPIC compared to other light rail stories (not to mention yesterdays EPIC FAIL because you dweebs won’t post your comment).

I was sitting in a seat next to your typical smelly-wearing-all-the-clothes-he-owns-at-one-time street person, when he says to me:
“Excuse me, do you have a pen or a marker?”

I do have a pen in my purse, which is coincidentally a Student Goverment pen that says “EMPOWER” on it (reference my Facebook status on Tuesday, if you can).  But I notice the man has a piece of a cardboard box with him pressed between him and the window and realize the permanant marker I took from the lab the other day to label eppendorf tubes at home would be a viable alternative for him.

Me: “Will this Sharpie work?”
Genius: “Thank you!”

I start watching him as he writes on the cardboard box.  He starts with the words “HEY ELIN…” and I think to myself, man this is going to be good.  He has kind of sloppy handwriting so it’s hard to see the rest, but I make out the words “PICK ME”…then I start texting and begin to ignore him until I see the final product.

On brown cardboard, the sign says:

Today on the light rail, I fed the hungry.

I also learned something about myself.  Not only do I talk to complete strangers on a daily basis, but I’m way too approachable.

I’ve always been the person who will talk to a complete stranger in certain situations.  Usually the conversation is started by showing a person a picture of my alter ego.  Lately, the conversation starts with “I blog about public transportation, wanna see?”  This is much better than Curtis’ co-worker who uses the line “I have herpes, what do you have?” to pick up girls (true story).  Or last night on the walk home from the grocery store a street man says “SAY! SAY! BABY GIRL! HOOK ‘EM!” because I was wearing my favorite zip up hoodie (thanks, Alex.).

But the easiest way to make a new friend is through food.  And unfortunately today, I looked very approachable and had brownies on hand.  I told my boss I’d make his snack for journal club today, so I made 2 batches of brownies last night.  I left the light rail with only 1 batch in hand, it seemed.

I was not wearing sunglasses this morning, so I guess that’s a clear indication it’s OK to talk to me.

Hungry Man: “Those brownies sure look good. How much you sellin them for?”
Me: “Oh they’re not for sale.  They’re for my boss.”

long pause

Hungry man to hungry man’s friend: “Look at her, hoggin all those brownies when we ain’t eaten since last night and they delicious.”
Yep…that hit a nerve….
Me: “Would you like one?  I can spare a few..I made extras…”
Hungry Man & Friend: “YAH!”

Like savage beasts, they each grab a brownie.  Hungry Man thought it was perfectly acceptable to tell his friends.

—-side note for John G-IdontrememberhowtospellyourlastnameIjustknowthereisaZinit: One of the men was wearing this hat AND I knew the Bruins are a hockey team…..any consolation??—

So the Hungry Man, his friend, Bruins guy, and a lady eat half of the brownies for Journal Club this morning before I even get to work.  Great.

Moral of the story: If you give a hungry man a brownie, he’ll want to invite his friends over and they will eat the whole batch.