Tough commute today:

1. A goddamn SUV sped by me and splashed puddlewater, soaking me from the waist down.

2. A crazy guy sat next to me on the subway. Or maybe he was just drunk — he smelled strongly of menthol and held an unlit cigarette in one hand and what looked like a scratch-ticket stub in the other. I was reading my book when he tried engaging me in conversation by asking if my hair color is real. I did the polite smile-terse answer thing and went back to my book, but he wouldn’t shut up: “I could tell it wasn’t real; you can see the rootsy things are darker brown.” He went on to talk about his wife’s hair and his college career. (It was hard to understand everything because of the noise on the train, but I heard “MIT” and “quantum mechanics” mentioned — maybe he’s a formerly brilliant scientist who’s lost his mind and now rides the rails?) It’s not like he said anything offensive, but he would not shut up, despite the fact that I ignored the heck out of him and stared at my book, but he kept tapping at my watch wanting to know the time, which was annoying. It felt like it took forever to go three lousy stops. I must secrete some pheromone that attracts disturbed, loud individuals. The other night, some guy walking in the opposite direction shouted, “Hey, it’s the marathoners!” to me and another woman hurrying to get out of the cold and onto the train. When neither of us answered, he said, “Well there they are, Dumb and Dumber.” Which actually is kind of funny, but still — I hate getting critiqued on the street like that.

3. The woman at Au Bon Pain in the Ass forgot my cream cheese, so I had a dry bagel.