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Interesting train ride home yesterday…I get on a packed car about 5:30 last night, a Zeppelin playlist cranked to 12 on my iPod. I notice a commotion among the other passengers in my immediate surroundings, but I can’t hear what’s going on. Apparently the guy seated near the door across the car from me – an older guy with copper skin and Deputy Dawg features – is yelling at the woman right in front of me, a heavy set young black woman whose face I cannot see.

People, looking amused and a little afraid, kind of clear out all around the two of them, and by extension me. I decide to take one of my earbuds out just to eavesdrop…

“You an Uncle Tom motherfucker!” the woman yells at the man.

“You got me wrong.”

“Uncle Tom-ass bitch!”

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In towns with real public transportation, people are used to interacting with the crazies on a daily basis. In Houston, not so much. Most of us keep our windows rolled up and the AC on. But I happen to live on the Main Street rail line, and today I took it to work.

The train was pretty crowded. I was standing up holding a rail, and there was a young man sitting across from me. The conversation started off innocuously enough.

“I like your shoes,” he said.

“Why, thank you,” I replied, and gave him a smile. Then things got weird.

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