Woo! I just had my first drunk person on the train experience this morning. On the Red Line, at 9:30 a.m., a middle aged man with a bag over his shoulder, a camera in one hand, and a plastic bottle of Gatorade in the other. Except it's not Gatorade, unless they're making a whiskey blend these days.
Sits down in one of those center-facing seats, right in front of me, REEKING of alcohol, sipping and muttering, and then playing with his camera like he's going to start shooting pictures. Mutters some more, including the term "bimbos." I put my shades back on and am looking in the window reflection at the blonde lawyer looking lady directly across from him, who is, like me, hardly moving a muscle but watching him very closely.
Next stop? We both leap for the doors. Not sure where blonde lawyer lady went, but I simply jumped into the next car. The urban adventure continues!
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