The scene: the Lawrence platform of the red El line at night. THE GIRL stands minding her own business in the corner of one of the little incubator nooks. She is exhausted after working a 12-hour day trying to do her part to make the world a better place. She hears the sound of a tin can hit the tracks behind her. She turns to find the source of the noise (rookie mistake).
SKETCHY DUDE: That was me. I threw that tin can because I was done with it.
THE GIRL realizes her mistake in even looking up from her magazine.
THE GIRL: Oh. That's fine. Hopes this is the end of the interaction.
A moment goes by while THE GIRL holds her breath and tries to stop existing to prevent any more communication.
SKETCHY DUDE: approaches girl in the creepiest way possible Can I borrow your phone? I can't find mine.
THE GIRL: It just died. I am sorry. She tries to sell this lie as hard as she can.
SKETCHY DUDE: Oh. I mean, I am not going anywhere.
THE GIRL sees how he treated a tin can that he was done with and realizes she probably made the right choice not handing over her phone.
THE GIRL: Sorry.
SKETCHY DUDE produces a disposable black & white camera from his trench coat pocket and aims it at her. THE GIRL immediately puts her magazine over her face.
SKETCHY DUDE: Can't I take your picture?
THE GIRL: No. Sorry. Yeah, Sorry you're a creeper, she thinks
SKETCHY DUDE: I am in school.
THE GIRL grips the magazine in front of her face for dear life and wonders what he could possibly be in school for that would require a disposable black and white camera. Also where do you even get those any more?
THE GIRL and SKETCHY DUDE stand in silence for a while while THE GIRL reads her magazine two inches in front of her face. Suddenly out of the corner of her eye, she sees SKETCHY DUDE's hand extended towards her.
SKETCHY DUDE: Hershey Kiss? He holds out a silver wrapped Hershey Kiss that has probably been laced with LSD. He is the reason your parents warn you not to take candy from strangers.
THE GIRL shakes her head while silently wondering where the fuck the train is.
SKETCHY DUDE: Do you mind if I smoke?
THE GIRL: No, its fine.
SKETCHY DUDE: lights a cigarette No really, tell me if its a problem.
THE GIRL: Its fine. I don't mind.
SKETCHY DUDE: I can go outside.
THE GIRL thinks about the fact that they are outside and if he considers this exposed-on-three-sides nook "inside" then she really does not know what to say. Also, he is already smoking. She shrugs noncommittally and goes back to her magazine.
SKETCHY DUDE wanders outside the nook.
SKETCHY DUDE: Is this better?
THE GIRL: its fine.
a moment passes.
THE GIRL hears the very clear sound of SKETCHY DUDE urinating on the nook, from, thank God, the outside of it. She quickly walks away from the nook, recognizing warmth is not worth the smell of fresh crazy man urine. THE GIRL thanks her lucky stars she was not flashed, laughs out loud, shakes her head and revels in the insanity of Uptown and gets on the, finally arriving, Red Line train.