Tuesday Night on the Red Line

I leave the theatre a little after 10:00. Fortunately, the Jarvis stop is across the street. I climb up the urine scented stairs to the platform. I look north toward Howard, but there is no sign of the next train. So, I resign myself to the wait. I continue to look up the platform towards Howard, and I notice the woman. She stands near the other set of stairs. She's talking to someone . . . no wait . . . she's not talking to anyone. She's just talking. I continue to look that direction, trying not to stare at the woman. But, she turns and looks my way. I can't make out what she's saying, but it looks as though she's directing whatever it is towards me. I don't move, hoping she'll realize I'm not looking at her, but towards Howard. She begins to walk towards me. I consider turning around, but decide against it. My logic being that if I do that then it might be proof in her mind that I was indeed looking at her. Finally, I begin to make out what she's saying. It's mostly swearing mixed with racial epithets, and the occasional mention of how the wealthy white people always get what they want. She stops ten to fifteen feet away from me, and to my relief no longer appears to be addressing me. I make sure I avoid eye contact just in case. I listen to her continue to have a conversation, yes it is an actual conversation with no one. A thought enters my head, perhaps because I just came from rehearsal, but it sounds like she may actually be reciting lines from a play.

I spend the next ten minutes trying to decide if she's an actor, crazy, or both. I also find it surreal in that her raving sounds like it could be part of a performance, if it is raving. Finally, the train arrives. She's not on my car. I go the three stops to Granville. I walk down the platform towards the stairs. I walk behind an older woman in a tattered coat who's shoulders are so hunched over that only a small tuft of hair is visible from her head. However, her coat has a fur lined hood that is down, and her hair blends in with this. It creates the illusion that she is in fact headless. I follow the headless woman to the stairs. She, however, takes the elevator. I decend the stairs, and walk home.