I was coming home on the train after a long delay sitting in a tunnel. Exhausted and not paying attention to much, I found myself sitting close to a large woman in pink sweats who seemed even more tired than I was. She was asleep or trying to sleep and every now and then as she began to slide into a deeper sleep, she would lose her balance and then wake herself up.
After one time too many of nearly falling over, she awoke for good and began talking:
“I like your shoes.”
“Thank you. I like them too.”
“I’m hungry.”
“You know I just came from a party and I have a huge tub of salad. You want it?”
“No I don’t do salad.”
“How about a burrito? I have a chicken burrito.”
“Let me see it.” I pull the burrito out of my bag and offer it to her in a clear cellophane wrapper.
She looks interested, then makes a face and asks, “Is that beans in there?”
“Yes, its chicken and rice and beans and -”
“I don’t do beans.”
“You don’t do beans? Beans are good for you.”
“I just want money for McDonalds.”
“McDonalds? There’s McDonalds around here.”
“But can’t you just give me money for McDonalds?”
“Sorry Miss, no I can’t.”
I wish I’d said “Sorry Miss, I don’t do McDonalds.”