I heart my bike

I rarely take the metro to work these days, but when I do, I tend to run into the baublehead.

See, I left my bike at work last night so I could go to a dentist appointment afterward, and metro-ed in this morning. As I approached the station, I saw her. You can't miss her, such is her unique demeanor.

I used to work in the same place as the baublehead. I don't have the writing skills to describe her to the unknowing reader in a way that could do her justice. You have to meet her for yourself (after that, you'll need a month to get her shrill voice out of your head). Let me leave it at this: I am not that mean; I don't easily resort to mocking other people's physical appearance (personality is fair game. just kidding. kind of). My point is, she's a baublehead.

I reached the platform only to learn that my train would be five minutes in coming. What if she tried to talk to me! The horror! What to do? I know, I need to call mom. I called home last night to wish my parents a Shana Tova, but just talked to dad. Mom was out at her pilates class.

Mom: Hello?
A.: Good morning. I hope I didn't wake you.
Mom: Oh, no. I've been up. I'm reading Investor's Business Daily. You know, they have things in there you won't find in the papers. I can't believe what's going on. I can't believe how greedy and incompetent everyone is. I didn't see this coming. Selfish politicians! This is worrisome. I just don't know what's happening.

This goes on for about five minutes.

A.: I have to get on the train, mom. I called to ask whether you want my old laptop for any reason? I'll recycle it otherwise.
Mom: I saw on tv that...
A.: I have to go, mom. Laptop?
Mom: Does it still work?
A.: It's slow but it works.
Mom: Sure, dad may be able to use it.
A.: Okay, I'll bring it next week. Bye.
Mom: Bye.