This morning on the streetcar, I sat down by the back doors, quietly absorbed in my music. Piercing through the angst and strain of Alanis were long groans and moans coming from what sounded like an old man about midway in the car. The middle aisle was already full of people, so I couldn’t see the source of the noise. It didn’t seem like anyone was acting with a sense of urgency, so I thought nothing of it.

As people got off, it seemed a bubble was forming around someone on the other side of the car. People were avoiding this guy that seemed like a hippie. He had long greying hair, and had this braided hair tie thing going around his forehead. He had various things hanging from his pants. The item among them that drew my attention the most was a bell that rang as he walked. He was hygienically challenged and smelled quite ripe; it’s no wonder that people formed a “perimeter” around him.

He stood up from his seat and proceeded to continue retching and moaning. The sound was halfway between being arthritic and orgasmic: say, ‘arthrasmic’, or perhaps, ‘orgasritic.’ As he neared his stop, he moved towards the rear doors, with his bell gently clanging with every step. The smell caused me to hold my breath. Unfortunately, the car caught a red light and had to stop before the destination. The hippie wretched and moaned.

Eventually he got off, allowing me to exhale and generate a big sigh of relief.

All of that made me smile this morning.