No Sense, No Sensability

The train was crowded and overly warm. The BART Operator kept apologizing for stopping in the wrong spot. It was cute the first time. After the third time her girls giggle and nervous manner became annoying. We knew the train pulled too far forward and she knew the train pulled to far forward., So what that a few people were left in the lurch and had to walk 25 yards to get on? The train was not leaving without them. I think she’d have been better served apologizing for not having the Air Conditioning on high enough. Luckily, I put on a 2nd and 3rd coat of deodorant. See, I do care about my coworkers.

When I finally got off the train, crawling over piled in commuters, squeezing past the guy with the bike — I know you think you are helping the environment, but how many people rip their clothes on your mountain bike, requiring them to drive to the store and buy new clothes or have the old ones repaired? Not so smart now, are you? – and made it to the platform, calm, empty and remarkably cool.

I had gone less than a 50 yards , when I saw her, barely in the train, clearly uncomfortably perched too close to the door.  You know her, the corporate accountant, trying to balance her “I’m a low-level manager , respect me!” with her need to be a woman (yeah, I’ll flirt my way out of this situation). Black business suit, hitting her nicely just above the knees.   A white blouse that was ready to have one more button undone. Make-up that can play both sides of the fence (I’m guessing her lunch date was on her mind more than that budget meeting at 11).  Dark hose that said evening wear.  And — wait for it — sand colored Uggs. 

Seriously? My stomach flopped. In what world did she think should walk down Montgomery Street in San Francisco and not stand out like the tanning mom?   This was worse than Lisa Rinna’s latest lips. She was a fashion crime for all to see.  I’ve long ago given in to the specific disappoint of commuting women wearing flats and tennis shoes on the train.  I know  my mother would be appalled at that, but this was horrific.  A color faux pas layered with a serious fashion belly flop.  What, is this LA?  I know they wear crap like this there and call it fashion.  I guess there are clueless people here too. I walked away hoping Joan Rivers would scream at her and throw her under the train.

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