Unearthed Memory #1

A few years ago, I began a blog that would highlight some of my finer features as a rambler, a gambler, and, well, you know the rest. Like so many other blogs before it, I failed to keep it going. I just could not find the time to post anything and when I actually did I erased it within a few days. Below is a random post from said blog. It was a trip for me to read it, and, hopefully, you'll get a kick out of it too. It was originally called:


Do It For The Kids...or Spite


While taking the Rail, on Monday, I found myself surrounded by a group of kids between the ages of 7 and 10 that were touring part of the city (can I say City?) with a guardian. They were loud, annoying, and full of an energy that I've all but forgotten. Like everyone else waiting for the train, I periodically glanced at the lonely teenager in charge of them and thought, "How much do you get paid? Why aren't you keeping them quiet? Why are they running? This is dangerous. Corral your kids. Lady, CORRAL YOUR KIDS. Why is that one running in the terminal?" When the train finally arrived, I was pleased. Everyone under the age of fourteen seemed to shuffle into the front car, and I felt like I had just broken back into normalcy. Ahhh, quiet. Crotchety, miserable quiet. 
But then! Just as the doors were getting ready to close, children began pouring into the car in droves. All the other passengers (possibly reliving the trauma they experienced at the terminal) promptly sandwiched themselves as far away from the chaos as possible. Never take the middle, I thought, but it was too late. I was now surrounded by screaming children and as I went to give the teenager that old, familiar look, I noticed she was already looking at me with eyes that screamed You deal with it. 
It's funny to realize this (at the age of 28) but kids just don't seem to have barriers. I realize this is not an epiphany; I'm not going to shed light on a new subject, but it had been so long since I spent time around anyone of their age. 'Off Guard' seems like a good term, so I'll just use that. They asked my name, how old I was, and then proceeded to tell me about their trip to the Zoo. I had a hard time deciphering what they were talking about because they were all trying to talk at once. A tornado of laughing and ''hey, misters.'' It was like a game, and when I finally went to ask them a question, they collectively answered me by moving their arms up and down like Go-Go dancers. 
I laughed at this. I know I did because I immediately looked around at all the other passengers for a sympathy giggle. What I got; however, were the most horrendous stares you've ever seen. I don't know what they were actually thinking (I probably don't want to know), but, judging from their squinty eyes and downturned lips, I'm sure they assumed I was a creeper and I'd just hit the jackpot. I was so upset.
And when you're upset (and you can't beat people's faces)....

YOU JUST GOTTA DANCE!

Monday was odd. If someone told me that I would be doing the Charleston on the Metro Rail with a bunch of 9 year olds, I would have assumed that this would be the day I developed a drinking problem. I went from being annoyed, to loathed, to loved, and possibly back again; I was cast out of adulthood for a few seconds and when I came back I just confused people. When I got off the train, I looked around again and noticed that my lack of rhythm had caused an attractive looking girl to smile uncontrollable. Which I KNOW destroyed any other guys chance of talking to her--even if just for the duration of that trip. How do you top that?

So what did I learn from all this? All cliches, I'm afraid. But maybe the next time one of my friends says, "Well, you just gotta dance like no one's watchin'" I'll find myself poised to say, "Or, dance like a whole train car full of jerks are watching you because they think you're a creep."

Nah.