text: "Hon', did you hear that?" Elaine asked, her voice filled with concern. "Yeah, something about a disabled train ahead of us," replied Ian, with a tone reflecting his frustration. I found myself in the company of the McAllisters, a situation that usually meant Elaine's incessant chatter and Ian's desire for peace and quiet to read his newspaper. "Just when you need to get there early. How about you call the office?" "I hate this," he muttered. As I observed his grumpy demeanor, I couldn't help but sympathize. Being late was not part of the plan, and I had hoped to catch up on my messages before arriving at the office. Finally, the train started moving again, and as we pulled into the next station, I saw a crowd of at least a hundred people waiting on the platform. Their expressions were an open book: annoyance, relief, and anxiety all mixed together as they eagerly awaited the arrival of the train, hoping to secure a seat. Among them, a Lenny Kravitz lookalike: dreadlocks, leather jacket, jeans, dark glasses, carrying a messenger bag. He was even playing one of his songs, " Fly Away ." And when I say playing, I mean it was blasting from two small speakers hanging by his side pockets. “To anywhere I please, oh I want to get away I want to fly away Yeah, yeah, yeah” As he got in, a passenger who was visibly upset about what was happening took off, pushing him on his way out. He didn’t seem to care. He looked too cool and collected for that. Yet, there was something about him that was unmistakably different: fried eggs. That odor had a way of making me feel nauseous and lightheaded, like a dizzy spell induced by breakfast. I had to cover my nose. “Is he mad?” said Ian. Since more people were entering the train, he put a hand-wipe between his hand and the pole the three of us were holding. “Nah, I think he is just looking for some attention,” I said to both smiling. “C’mon, really?” said Elaine. “These days, people do whatever they want on the subway” I added, looking at her. The music was indeed maddening for sure, but I thought a bit of humor would alleviate everyone’s exasperation. It was just a little after 7:30 a.m. on a brisk autumnal day when all we wanted was to get to our destination. Our car looked full -at least from where I stood--but more passengers kept boarding, hoping we could squeeze further to make room for them. As I looked at the people surrounding me, I couldn’t help analyzing the cast of characters that had formed around me. There was “the germaphobe” or the "Ian McAllister of the day" who needed a napkin to protect himself; “the multitasker,” or the woman with red lipstick and long eye lashes who was somehow managing to hold her coffee, her tote bag and the pole, all in one hand; “the pincher" or the man in green who only touched the center pole but with only with two fingers--I was convinced he also traveled with Purell in his pocket-- and; last but not least, my favorite one because he made everyone uncomfortable, “the no-hands" who thought he was so string that he didn't need to hold the pole, but stayed close enough to us un case he crashed into a stranger. I lacked air. Large backpacks were certainly not welcome and being able to read or watch something from a mobile phone was a monumental attempt for anyone who tried to do so. As more people started voicing their frustration about the delays, another announcement came in. “Your attention passengers. This train will remain on the platform for the next five minutes. We will then begin single tracking,” said the train operator. “F__!” said the multitasker. “What about your 10 o’clock, hon’? You’ve been preparing for--” asked Elaine. “Elaine...I’ll reschedule.” Ian McAllister was quick-tempered. His wife, on the other hand, was a chatter box and “a drama queen”. She knew however when not to cause a scene by irritating him, so she did not utter a word for the next few minutes--which was funny to watch. Shortly after the announcement, we were moving once again, until we heard, “The next stop--” “Please don’t say we are stopping again !” said the person backing me. In fact, just as we thought we were making some progress, the train suddenly came to a halt, causing a chain reaction that made “Ms. Multitasker” spill her coffee on my hand and “Mr. Pincher” to flinch. "Shit!" She exclaimed, followed by, "I'm so sorry about that. Are you okay?" "I'll be fine," I replied, brushing it off. We were packed in like sardines and breathed on each other. All of this, combined with the loud music surrounding us was deafening. That said, things couldn’t have been any better for our “local rockstar.” All along, he kept talking to someone while his music was playing. He was the only one having a good time, unperturbed by the train delay. From his looks, I could tell he relished this moment of disrupting our mundane ride to work. For this, he turned the volume further up. Now we had: "I got to get away (get away, get away) Girl, I got to get away (get away, get away) Oh, oh, oh yeah" “Pfff.... how inappropriate!” I thought to myself. As we rode to the next station, he took more space near us. “How could -” started Elaine who immediately got the stare from her husband. I wanted to laugh at this outburst, but I couldn’t. There was no room to hide emotions, so I hid my giggled by holding my hand in front my mouth. What amused me most was Elaine’s squeaky voice and colorful outfits. While her husband was visibly annoyed with all this, other passengers around us took notice and were laughing. “Woohoo! You the man!” said someone from far back at the rockstar. After occupying a much-needed space, he was now pulling a notebook from his messenger bag. I don’t know what he was thinking but he began typing until he was forced to stop to listen to the train operator announcing our arrival at the next station. He then methodically proceeded with the next surprise from his bag: an Egg Mcmuffin for breakfast. Since we had nowhere else to go, his movement and music became our source of entertainment for the morning. We all wanted “to get away, oh yeah.” Those could see, watched the show. He chewed loudly in front of us although food was forbidden on the train. The McAllister used this excuse to leave. “Good luck,” they said, looking at me and at our rockstar. “Enjoy!” said a passenger who stumbled over him while leaving the train. “Move,” said another one boarding the train. Our rockstar was clearly unperturbed by people’s movement in and out of the car. I was, on the other hand. The smell of his food made me feel so nauseated that I thought I would faint. But I had nowhere to escape. To my rescue was the crisp air we could feel coming in. Since this station was not underground, I could get some much fresh air come in through the opened doors. This is also when I noticed that someone had been watching. It was a passenger I had not noticed before on the train. With his towering height of six feet, he had an intense look that felt unsettling, as if he could see through me, or all of us. I tried to ignore him and look away. But something told me that if I looked in his direction, he would still be there, staring. Sure enough, he was still staring and didn’t not blink. So, I looked down. After a few seconds, I decided to take another look, this time with a more assertive gaze. And that’s when it happened, something unexpected. "Ma'am, would you like to take this seat?" I blushed, feeling both surprised and grateful, as I made my way towards him, accepting the generous offer. "Oh my gosh, that's so kind of you! Thank you, sir," I replied with genuine appreciation. "It's my pleasure," he responded with a warm smile. My feet were tired and swollen from standing during the long commute. It seemed that this stranger had noticed my discomfort--I was five months along--and thought his gesture was the right thing to do. I was stunned by his kindness and truly grateful for it. From that point on, I lost track of how many more stops remained. All I knew was that by the time I reached my destination, I had inadvertently memorized the song playing on the train. “I want to get away I want to fly away Yeah, yeah, yeah”