seanan_mcguire @ 2010-04-14T07:13:00

2010-04-14T14:13:10Z

Yesterday, I was sitting on BART reading the absolutely fantastic new book, I am Not a Serial Killer [Amazon]|[Mysterious Galaxy] by Dan Wells. It has blood splatter all over the cover. That's how you know it's quality.

Anyway, I was happily reading away when the train pulled into Embarcadero Station and a fairly generic-looking white male of approximately my age got on and took the seat beside me. He was very...standard issue, really. Brown hair, no visible blemishes, not handsome, not ugly, just normal. He was wearing an equally generic-looking gray suit, the kind that doesn't make you go "Wow, that guy's sharp" or "Wow, that guy needs to have a talk with his tailor." He was just normal.

We rode "together" (as in, crammed into the same two-person seater) to the Downtown Berkeley stop, where he got up, smiled pleasantly at me, nodded toward my book, and said, "I am."

And then he got off the train.

Had that been my stop, I think there's a very good chance I would have decided to ride to Colma, rather than disembarking. But the book is excellent, and I bet that, for most people, it doesn't come bundled with a maybe-joking-maybe-I-should-lock-the-doors stranger. Brrr.

Rose-Owls and Pumpkin Girls

seanan_mcguire @ 2010-04-14T07:13:00