Liberated

This is neither a political post nor a jab at stereotypes. It’s meant to be more of a personal observation to share both humor and concern with the dichotomy of certain people’s existence.

Found in the wild, but unable to formulate a label as is so popular to do today. I was also too afraid of offending this person in an attempt to produce a reliable list of pronouns. Transportation has already been sketchy, no need to get thrown off the train for the sake of precision story-telling.

Due to their visible female anatomy, I shall humbly refer to this person as “she/her”. As time moved forward, the accuracy of my conclusions began to climb into Marine Sniper territory.

While walking along the passenger car, I found an empty set of seats to park myself in. I then glanced over at the passenger across the walkway. There’s no consistent reason why I do this. I guess I’m just curious as to those seated around me. Anyway, I wasn’t sure what to make of her. Once situated, I took a longer look. Their attire? Timberland style hiking boots with ankle socks, tight denim jorts with the bottoms folded a couple times above the knee, a plain, light colored sleeveless top with the bra poking out from every appendage portal, and a haircut best described as shaved around the neck and faded into a bob, but with the top long enough to brush backwards. Sort of a modified Karen, but it wasn’t spiky.

For the record, I made no assumptions on her as a person based on appearance. We all travel our own way. It’s about comfort.

She sat quietly until the train began to pull away from the station. I don’t know what caused her to suddenly spring to life. Maybe she was motion activated? All I can say is after the big silver can was under way, the middle-aged wallflower commenced shenanigans. She immediately flagged down an attendant and asked if she could play her acoustic guitar as long as she kept it low. After politely telling the undiscovered star it would not be acceptable since she wasn’t the only person in the car, the passenger began to debate the ruling based on the fact that “I just began to write a song this morning and really wanted to get everything down while I could remember it.”

Once declined for a second time, I could visibly see the confusion in the passenger’s eyes as to why her reasoning wasn’t good enough to change the attendant’s mind. After one final attempt to rationalize the guitar solo failed, she sat back in her seat, faced forward and allowed silence to return to the train car… For a minute or two.

Act II – Her phone was out, digits dialed, and a call was connected to her sister… ask me how I know. 

At least half the passengers trapped in the car with her were privileged enough to get an inside scoop on this married-but-separated struggling artist’s made-for-tv life. The drama with her ex-husband, the police involvement, her musical ambitions, how she went to see some country singer in concert the night before and wasn’t impressed, but admitted he played better than she did… and finally, how most people around her (in life) seemed to suck and were inconsiderate (insert irony) but how she was determined not to let all the negativity get her down.

Eventually, her sister found an excuse to hang up and after 30 electrifying minutes of one-sided conversation. With the phone call at an end, we enjoyed another pause in the action… before the guitar came out. She spent 5-10 minutes quietly getting it tuned then positioned herself in the seat so there wouldn’t be any obstacles to interfere with her performance. She then made a light pass over the strings maybe twice, then returned it to its case.

Alright then. Guess her first hit is going to be a brief one. 

An hour or so post-concert, I was hungry enough to eat train food. The almost comical thing about what is served in the café car is that it’s microwaved to the point of food/container fusion. Once the end-of-radiation treatment bell sounds, you will be handed back a lump of once-rigid plastic, now heat formed to the food it once protected. 

Anywho,  I made my way back to the café to discover the musician-in-training had cornered some old man in his booth and was talking to him about “the industry”. I’m not certain how he was roped into the convo. That happened before my arrival. I could tell he was being nice, but growing impatient as he continued to tell her he wasn’t connected in a way that would be of benefit to her. The guitarist didn’t seem to let that bother her and kept finding reasons to exchange contact info.

This biological female had such a strange look in her eye – no joke. She kept looking out and over everyone when speaking with them… like she wasn’t quite with us in the moment. This is not an exhaggeration folks. It was weird. Eventually, she left him alone and turned back to the line.… which everyone behind me appreciated since there had been no one between her and the counter for what felt like 5 minutes.

BUT… While waiting for the food to be smelted… In a last ditch effort, this nut leaned backwards, from behind him and over his shoulder, and said she’d still like to trade info just for the sake of networking. That was all the old man needed to tell her in a direct manner that he could not help her in any way, but wished her the best of luck. With that message received by the entire car, she thanked him, wished the same, and finally permitted the man to return to his crossword puzzle and breakfast coffee.

Not knowing what else to do, this no-boundaries superstar returned to her chair after receiving her food and remained quiet until her stop arrived – which wasn’t too much longer after that.

I can’t say with any certainty how she is in her full time life, but in those moments, I  could not help be reminded of people I’ve known from the past that are absolute pros at pushing everyone around them until someone explodes, then playing the victim. The only way they seem to function efficiently is to believe the world revolves around them. They aren’t bad people. They’ve just become fundamentally broken somewhere along their life path.

I could be wrong about who they were, but I’ve seen enough similar interactions in real life as well as being on the receiving end of their self victimization to know it’s not a con or game to get their way. These types of people are sincerely oblivious to everyone else while only being able to process being offended and not the probability that they offended others.