I did forget to mention one of the more interesting parts of my trip down to Atlantic City — the 11-hour or so train ride back.
The train was packed, so there was no chance of getting a seat by myself, which I usually like to do so I can stretch out a little. Actually, I had a little bit of claustrophobia, which is a strange thing for a person who’s used to be agoraphobia. Hehe.
From Philadelphia to Penn Station I sat next to a bright, attractive, energetic young woman (I thought she was 22, she turned out to be 29) who didn’t seem to mind chatting a bit. “Helps pass the time!” she said, which is also the way I feel about it (although I did try not to jabber incessantly at her). Her name was Stacy (with or without an e, I don’t know), and it turns out she does promotional work for the WWE, which I find fascinating. She gave me her email address (no, boys, I am not trying to collect trophy numbers or addresses, she just seemed like a nice person, and I wouldn’t mind chatting with her in the future).
She got off at Penn Station (ah, I remember the days when I got off there, and headed off for extended stays in Manhattan…). Shortly after that, a beautiful and very young girl — 19, I learned — sat down next to me. Sheira, I believe her name was, although I think I’m getting it wrong.
Now, this girl looked a little bit like, and radiated the charming innocence of, my very first girlfriend, so some strange paternalistic instinct in me took over and I began asking her about school and such and warning her about boys. She’s a junior, a math major at Harvard (whoa! numbers have never been my friend), and she’s never had a boyfriend. That floored me. The girl was seriously cute, but obviously didn’t think she was, she frowned at me when she told me that.
If I were her age and going to Harvard with her, you’d have to beat me away from this girl with a stick. Bright, charming, unassuming, pretty in a fragile way — what is wrong with the boys at Harvard, is what I want to know?
We chatted for a long while and then I finally drifted off into iPod zone-outage and she fiddled with her laptop looking for where her new classes were.
So, the train ride was fun, I want to know what promotional work for the WWE is like, and I also want to know what in God’s name is wrong with the boys at Harvard these days to leave a fragile beauty like that second girl all alone! Not that Stacy, the first girl, wasn’t beautiful as well, but she seemed to be a bit more comfortable with the concept of guys than this poor girl did.
Ah well. I hope to at least find out the answer to the WWE question.