The One With the Creepy Train Guy

Saturday night I went with Bluebird to see the Nameless-Initialless One in a performance with his guitar class. Said performance was BYOB and Bluebird and I went to the 7-11 down the street where she purchased some Coors Light and I purchased some overpriced SoCo and a Diet Coke, and thought once again how much easier things might be for me if I could just drink beer. I digress.

The performance ended at around 10:00 and I headed home while the others went to a bar. I didn’t go with them because I had to get up at 7:30 Sunday morning to go the South Side Irish Parade. Yeah, 7:30 on a Sunday where we set our clocks ahead. No bar for me.

I got on the train, which was half a block away. For those unfamiliar with the el trains a short explanation. Next to the doors is a set of seats facing sideways. And then there are seats facing either forward or backward. This means it is possible to be sitting facing the side while next to your right or left someone faces forward. I hope this makes sense.

So there I am sitting sideways. To my left is a pair of seats facing the front of the train. Behind that set of seats is another set, where a man is sitting. Staring at me. I would catch him staring at me as I looked around the train. It unnerved me, and then it was like I could feel him watching me.

Then, at one stop he gets up, but not off the train. Nope. He moves forward a set of seats and is now sitting directly to my left. Still staring. I could feel his eyes boring into me. I started to get a little nervous that he was going to follow me off the train and began devising a safety plan–get off the train and head directly to Waterhouse bar, which is two doors down from the station and guaranteed to be crowded.

Overhead I heard Mr. El Guy announcing my stop. “This is Paulina.” I stood up and headed over to the door. His eyes followed me and he continued to stare at me as the train pulled into the station and I waited for the doors to open. Luckily, he stayed on the train, but once outside, as I passed by the window his seat was near, I saw him turning to continue staring.

I looked over my shoulder the entire way home. Damn my awesome pink hat…