Friend or Foe?

I was riding the Metrolink today from Swansea, IL to my home in University City, MO, and as usual, I was taking a nap. Since I work in IL, I commute there every morning and back every afternoon via the light rail system that St. Louis so graciously presented to us about 15 years ago. The 45 minute commute leaves me with scant else to do aside from read, listen to my iPod or snooze for a bit. This particular day, I was feeling tired due to my going to bed at 5am, and thusly decided to hunker down for a bit and have a siesta.

Now, since this is nothing new (napping due to being tired from a lack of sleep), I almost always set an alarm on my cell phone to go off after 35 minutes. That gives me plenty of time to wake up and regain my senses before I deboard at the Delmar Station stop. However, I generally don't need to do so, as my internal clock seems to know precisely when to arise from my slumber. After all, I have been doing this for about three years now.

So today, after boarding in Swansea, I found myself in a throng of Cardinals fans who were traversing the Mississippi River en route to Busch stadium for the game against the Los Angle Dodgers this evening (as of this writing, top of the 10th, tied 4 to 4). After plugging my iPod into place, I selected a nice little jam by the Grateful Dead that would help facilitate my dreamy escape for the day. This scenario- being surrounded by Cardinals Fans- rarely allows me to catch some serious Z's, as the Cardinal nation can be a rowdy bunch. But I ended up dozing off somewhere around the Washington Park Station stop and was thoroughly enjoying my little afternoon constitutional. I don't remember much of the journey from about the Emerson Park Station stop up until the Busch Stadium Station stop, aside from waking every now and then to readjust my sleeping position. But once we crept into East St. Louis, I was out like a light.

When we arrived at the Busch Stadium Station stop, and after all of the folks wearing their various Pujoles and Glaus jerseys departed, I was rudely awakened.

I was sitting there, head askew, when all of a sudden I felt this violent shaking about my shoulders. At first, as I was torn from my restful repose, I thought it might be a Metro security guard looking for my proof of payment (monthly Metro card, $60 a month at Dierbergs or Scnhucks). Then, still as I was climbing from the depths of slumber, I thought it might be a friend of mine who works downtown who I occasionally run into on the train from time to time. But no, neither of these were the reason I was being rudely interrupted from my nap. Turns out it was some random old guy sitting in the seat in front of me. He saw me sleeping and was concerned that I had missed my stop. He saw everyone get off at the Busch Stadium stop and assumed that I should be among the hordes of people looking to cheer the Red Birds on to victory.

Now, not only did this guy give me a violent shake to wake me up, but he kept his hand on my my shoulder and massaged it just a little to much for my comfort level. Then as he was talking to me, explaining why he woke me up, he kept up the masseuse routine and added a couple of good natured slaps on the arm to punctuate his monologue.

My first thought was something akin to, "get your hands off me you gin-soaked bum!" But what came out of my mouth was far more conciliatory. I instead thanked him for his concern, and tried to impart to him that I was fully aware that I was out of commission, and that it was a normal routine for me on my ride home day after day. I had pulled one ear bud of my iPod out so that I could actually here the old man, and he kept up this charade of being concerned for my well being, even after I had replaced the ear bud back into my ear. After a second, I realized he was still talking, and felt obligated to pull it out again and listen to what the guy was saying.

I don't know if I missed something in that span of three seconds or what, but by the time I pulled the miniature speaker from my ear canal, I heard him talking about growing up in Washington DC, and how he thought that we shouldn't be in Iraq.

Needless to say, I was thoroughly confused.

As a veteran rider of public transit, I let my urban instincts take over. Rather than try to engage him in conversation and determine just what it was he was on about, I just nodded my head and smiled and gave the perfunctory, "Yeah! No kidding! You're absolutely right!" line of BS in hopes that he would just go away so that I could return to my dream world. Well, it kind of worked. He said something I couldn't understand, and then followed it with an apology about how he didn't mean to bring up politics. He then grabbed my shoulder again, gave it a brief squeeze and said again that he just wanted to make sure that I didn't sleep through my stop. He then held his hand out for a hand shake (or so I thought... it was more of a index finger shake), said, "God bless!" and then got off the train at the Union Station stop, leaving me to wonder why I always seem to attract the guys who seem to have a light on, but no one in the domicile.

After contemplating my exchange with this seemingly unhinged individual, I promptly went to work at falling back asleep. I managed to do just that before we hit Grand Station.

Subsequently, I slept through my alarm and wound up at the Rock Road Station stop, two stops past my intended target.


**EDIT: The Cardinals won the game, 6-4 in the bottom of the 11th inning**