In which your humble narrator shares some weird.
Last Thursday I left my modest but well-appointed home at seven o'clock in the morning to make my way to the University to enlighten the minds our our nation's youth while simultaneously crushing their young spirits. I took the bus to the train and stood waiting at the station as the various over-perfumed junior account executives milled about fidgeting with their phones, when a large middle-aged woman wearing cargo pants walked onto the platform.
She proceeded to reach into the mid-thigh, velcro-secured cargo pocket and withdrew a piece of buttered toast. No wrapper, container nor napkin was evident. She took one bite, placed the toast back in the cargo pocket, chewed thoughtfully and stared out into space for about a minute until she repeated the procedure to procure another delicious morsel of toast.
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