'Serendipity' part 3
One day I met an Angel. Not an actual angel but that was her name. I was riding home to the Sunset on the L Taravel Muni Train, like I did most days when my work was done. I remember that I was reading 'Atlas Shrugged'. Each way was a long train ride. It would take an hour one way for me to travel from the Embarcadero station all the way out to the last stop on the other side of the peninsula. The first time I saw this Angel I was maybe a bit intoxicated. From liquor and crystal that is, not simply from the sight of an Angel. I was having trouble concentrating on my book. The substances swimming in my system had me wired like a new cable modem. Everything seemed to have an ethereal glow. I don’t know if that was foreshadowing or just the fact that I was indeed quite high.I think she got on at the Powell Street Station. The way this creature moved caught and held my glance. She was gliding, as if the train wasn’t the only thing on rails around here. She had a countenance that appeared both wise and naive at the same instant. I don’t think I had ever in my life seen a smile so radiant and purely joyous. I was sitting facing the aisle. She sat facing the front of the train just to my left. To look at her I only had to turn my head maybe 30 degrees. Or strain my eyes to the left searching my peripheral. As we traveled through the underground my book soon became no more than a prop that helped me conceal my sense of awe and fascination.
She saw me too. Or maybe she just saw a boy looking in her direction doing a poor job of concealing his attention. We made eye contact a number of times along the way. I wanted desperately to hear whatever she was bumpin’ in those headphones. I think I managed to keep my cool throughout the underground and on down the hill towards the ocean. When I got to my stop I passed right in front of where she was sitting. I stood up, moved cautiously toward the exit, grabbed the pole to steady myself, my knees felt weak. As the doors opened finally, I turned to her and smiled. She said calmly and politely “bye.” Somehow I also managed to work my voice-box and as I stepped off the train I also simply said “bye.” I strolled off into the night blissfully intoxicated.
Now I didn’t mean to mislead you. I said “One day I met an Angel,” and that’s true, it just wasn’t that day.
A week or so later I found myself again on the same train as this angel. This time I tried to hide my interest a little better. Also our relative seating positions weren’t such that eyeing each other was so damn obvious. For most of the ride all I could see was the back of her beautiful braided head, sporting those headphones that once again sparked an almost uncontrollable urge to be listening to the same track. I stayed on the train longer this time so I could see where she got off. The train went all the way to the bottom of the hill. This is where the Angel made her exit just as the train turned right for it’s final loop towards Sloat Ave. This time no words were exchanged just a polite smile. Her presence had begun to create that feeling in the pit of my stomach that is commonly described as butterflies but I know better as ‘the churning of the fear’.
Although I didn’t have the intestinal fortitude to offer any words to her, I was so moved that I turned to a young cat that was one of the few souls left on the train and said “damn that girl is fine.”
He looked at me like I had just lost a tennis match. His retort cut like a knife “Too late now, you shoulda told her.”
Gutting. He was right. I should have asked her name. I should have said something. I vowed to myself that I would talk to her the very next time I saw her.
More than a week passed. Every time I boarded the train I would search. I knew that if she lived on the same Muni line that someday I would see her again. That day just happened to be San Valentino’s Day.
Now I don’t think I need to go into any detail about my abhorrence of Valentines Day. I’m sure the feeling is widespread, especially for those lonely souls who happen to be without significant other on the big day. Gag me please. I was indeed one of the aforementioned lonely souls that fateful day. I woke up and everything was quite normal. I struggled down to the Muni stop and I distinctly remember feeling quite groggy.
I was sitting facing the back of the train car. The sun was shining bright that day. The light had a certain late winter crispness to it, illuminating everything as if it was in a catalog. All of the sudden, at the second stop, I caught a flash of pink in the corner of my sight. I looked up and there she was, the mythical angel. She smiled real big and said “Hi.”
Cue symphony, cue cherubs, cue bubbles.
All the sudden I was filled with the strength of a thousand Romeos. I tried to match the wattage on her smile and I said “Hi, what’s your name?”
“My name is Angel, what’s yours?”
She sat down and we began to chat, all about the lovely things and then all about the ugly things. She asked if she took my e-mail address and she wrote to me would I write back. And I was all like ‘duh… uh yeah!’ I was basically dumbstruck I couldn’t believe this serendipitous occurrence was happening to me.
I learned alot from that Angel. Its not always about me. And one should be aware not to put too much on it. And you best watch yourself or your bound to get clowned.
What would follow would be the extraordinary events that would fill a little memoir I like to call 'Ms. Mariposa and Sr. Sol Rude Up the Universe'.
Stay Tuned.
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