Rode the train this morning reading the LA Weekly on my lap and listeningf to Journey through the headphones. I'll tell you what, that Steve Perry, if he plays his cards right, the kid may have a future as a singer.
Across the aisle was a man in his 40's with his long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. There were three or four rubberbands holding the locks in place. He had a goatee and a face weathered by years of experience. The tattoos on his neck and all over his arms gave the impression that this was a hard man and that you wouldn't want to cross him for fear that his tan leather work boots might plant themselves in your face. Then, as I was getting my shit together to get off the train, his phone rang.
He spoke on the phone to someone in a tender voice. I got the impression that it was a child and he was calmly explaining that he was on his way to work and that he was on the train. I smiled and stepped down the steps to head to work.