As the days go by and I sit in my office, I find blogging to be especially entertaining. When I haven't had the chance to talk for a couple hours/minutes, I find the need to say something, even if it's a silent internet rant. And you come and read it, so don't you dare complain or make fun of me for my blogs. You're just as guilty as I am. Shouldn't you be working, not reading my unrelated story?
Unrelated, as in it doesn't have anything to do with running. Actually, maybe it should. Maybe I should be running at the end of this story. I shall call this story: Hugs from Harry.
I don't know if his name was Harry, or why he felt the need to approach me last night. The metro station was crowded, there were plenty of people, many of them who looked far more intelligent than me. Or at least more knowledgeable. But for whatever reason, this slightly scruffy (ok fairly scruffy), older, possibly drunk (gentle)man approached me and asked me if he went this direction if it would take him to the green line. I told him yes and took a slight step back since he was reeeeeally up in my face. Unfortunately, he noticed that I took a step back and quickly told me that he wasn't going to hurt me. I made the vaguely stupid decision to respond rather than run away, and told him that I was just being careful as a woman on the metro. Harry, as I have dubbed him, decided that he must comfort me, a woman on the metro, by giving me a hug. So he hugged me and I'm sure my eyes got very large, and he informed me that no one would ever hurt me, he would watch out for me and no one would ever hurt me, no, they wouldn't get through him. Naturally, my response to this was, "Oh, thank you." Which elicited more hugs from Harry. I have to admit that I didn't ride in the same car as him, and once he let go of me, I did wander down the platform with greater purpose than usual...but as we passed the station where he should have caught the green line, I couldn't help but look out the window and search for him, trying in vain to see if he had gotten off. I wonder if he made it to where he was going or if he fell asleep on the metro and is still riding around this morning. I wonder what I would have learned if I had just sat with him for 4 stops and chatted. I wonder how many people he approached before finally getting an answer to his original question. I wonder why Harry was alone and confused on the metro and I wonder if someone was waiting at home to take care of him. I wonder if Harry had a home to go to.
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