Friendship on the Train

Taking a deep breath, I looked at the girl sitting beside me on the train. “I liked it,” I blurted out. She turned to me in confusion. “Huh?”

“I liked it,” I lamely repeated. 

“Uhh, what did you like?” Her face was kind as she indulged me.

“Your painting. I saw it last week and overheard you talking to your friend on the phone about how you didn’t think it was that good. But I liked it.” 

Her face transformed, a smile lighting up her features. There was a twinkle of joy in her dark eyes as she ran a hand through her shoulder-length black hair. “Thank you.” 

I turned back to face the front of the train, a small smile on my face. 

A few days later she was sitting next to me again, the packed train hurriedly moving along. “So is it coffee or anxiety?” she asked when we were halfway to her stop. I had accidentally memorized when she got off a few weeks after she started taking the train. 

“What?”

She pointed to my leg that was bouncing up and down. “Did you drink a shit ton of coffee or do you have anxiety?”

“Ohh,” I said. “Anxiety. I don’t drink coffee, it not only tastes bad but does not go well with my anxiety.” I don’t know why, but I felt comfortable unloading on this total stranger. “I have this really important job interview today and I’m so scared I’m going to mess it up.” 

Turning in her seat so she was facing me completely, she gazed at me. “I believe you’ll do great. You know what always helps me to calm my nerves?” I shook my head. “I just visualize how small we actually are. I mean the universe is so vast and expansive. We’re on a floating rock for heaven's sake. If you don’t do well in your interview, there will be other opportunities down the line. Besides, maybe the path your life does take is better than the one you originally wanted.” 

I absorbed her advice, applying it to my nerves about my interview. “You know, that’s pretty solid advice.”

She smiled. “And if that doesn’t work, you could always just imagine the interviewer naked.” 

I couldn’t help but laugh as she did the same. Her laugh was gentle ocean waves and a picnic in the spring. “I’ll take that into account.” 

On Monday, she walked onto the train wearing her earbuds. I moved my backpack from the seat beside me and she sat, smiling at me. She pulled out her earbuds. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” I couldn’t hold it in any longer, having anticipated when I could tell her since I first got on the train. “I aced my interview!” 

“Seriously? That's amazing!” 

“Thanks. You’re actually the first person I told. I just wanted you to know because after hearing your advice I was totally calm during the interview. I even firmly shook her hand which I had been nervous about leading up to it.” 

She laughed at my confession. “Well, I’m proud of you.” She said it so simply that I had no room to doubt her.

A few minutes later, she was flipping through a book of beautiful pictures, her dark eyebrows drawn together in thought. “Penny for your troubles?” 

“I’m sort of lacking inspiration for my next painting. I want it to be a commentary on life and everyday struggles and stuff.” 

I gave it a thought. “Why don’t you paint this amazing train ride we take practically every day?” 

I had been joking but she gave it serious thought. “That could work.”

“Really?” She nodded. “Well make sure you include real estate agent Carl,” I said as I pointed to a man in a suit with red hair and a briefcase.”

“Oh, you know him?”

“Actually I don’t. I got bored one train ride and assigned everyone names and occupations. It’s lame but it got me through an hour when my phone had died. I call her sneezy Molly.” I discreetly pointed to a middle-aged brunette, clutching her purse tight to her chest. She was holding tissues in one hand and was quickly glancing across the compartment. She took out a bottle of hand sanitizer and squirted some before vigorously rubbing it in. 

My seat companion laughed, which made me happy that she didn’t think I was totally lame. “Have you met train conductor Jim? He doesn’t have his left eye. I think it’s either because he lost it in a war or his crazy ex-girlfriend.” 

This time I laughed. We spent the rest of the ride giving the passengers names and crazy stories. 

A couple days later, she walked onto the train holding two beverages. One looked like a regular coffee while the other was a frappuccino. She automatically sat next to me with a smile. 

“That’s a lot of coffee,” I jokingly pointed out. 

“One’s for you silly.” She handed me the frappuccino. When she saw how confused I was, she explained. “It’s to celebrate you acing your interview! Don’t worry, yours doesn’t have any coffee. It's just sugar, caramel, whipped cream, and even more sugar.” 

I felt like the Grinch when his heart expanded three sizes. “Thank you. That’s seriously so nice. But now I feel bad I didn’t get you anything for finishing your painting.” I gasped, remembering something in my backpack. I pulled out the small bag of candy and held it out to her. 

“I love those,” she gushed. 

“Really? So many of my friends think it’s gross.” She took one and held it up to me. I cheered her with the one in my hand. 

“To both our accomplishments,” she exclaimed. 

We spent the rest of the train ride talking and enjoying our treats. 

The next week, I was eagerly listening to her recount a date she had been on. “So then, he looked at me and told me I was really pretty.”

“As he should, you’re super pretty.” 

She smiled at my compliment before her face turned sour again. “Yeah, if only he had stopped there. He continued by telling me I would be even prettier if I got a boob job and lost a few pounds.”

I gasped. “No way. What an asshole,” I fumed. “What happened next?”

“I asked the waiter for the check. I drank back the rest of my drink in one gulp then took his and threw it at his face. Then I grabbed my purse and walked away.”

Closing my mouth that had dropped open, I started to speak her praises. “That is insane. I wish I could have the courage to do something like that. Seriously…” I trailed off. 

She looked at me when I stopped talking. “I know, I know. It might have been too much. It’s just, at that moment, I felt so wronged, ya know? Plus I’ve always wanted to throw a drink in someone’s face. Like in the movies.” 

“No, no. It’s not that. I just realized I don’t know your name.” 

My seatmate paused. “Oh.” She started to laugh. “Oh gosh. We’ve been chatting away like old ladies for weeks but don’t know each other’s names.” She stuck her hand out. “Hello, new friend. I’m Dawn.” 

I shook her hand. “Katie.” 

It was the start of a beautiful friendship.