Seven of the last nine commuter mornings, I've boarded the train and sat on the bench seat along the wall, just inside the door. Each morning, I take a seat between two 30-something men in suits. They bookend me, usually doing crossword puzzles from The Metro or clacking keys on their laptops, and I imagine I'm a queen flanked by 9-5 guardians.
The one on my left is balding and has a goatee. The one of my right is good-looking in a generic way. Good-looking enough to be entertainment when I'm bored of reading.
These two men are either friends, or they work together. This morning, the one on my left wordlessly handed The Metro across me so the one on my right could look at it. Right-side guy reviewed left-side guy's work for a minute, then handed it back. All without words.
One day last week, right-side guy was working on his laptop and leaned across me (sigh) to show left-side guy an email he'd drafted. "Does this sound okay?" right-side guy asked. Left-side reviewed, nodded and went back to his crossword.
I can't tell exactly what they are to each other because they never have conversation. And, you'd think that since they are obviously somehow linked, they might scoot over to sit next to each other rather than letting me take the empty space between them.
I paid attention this morning: when they leave the train, they do not wait for each other, they do not speak and they seem to go their separate ways. Are they just train-friends? Have they occupied these seats long enough that they are comfortable asking each other for work and crossword advice?
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