I spy...

Well.

On the orange line tonight, someone shit their pants (or produced an uncanny facsimile thereof). Nice. I changed cars at the next stop...to the car with the crying baby. It was at that point, I just turned up the Split Lip and gave up.

On the next leg of my journey, I recognized another commuter and added him to the list. He is now the Dennis Green Doppleganger and he joins Tall Asian iPod Guy and Circe Nightshade (aka "Cape Lady"). Yeah, I can see this Spot-A-Metro-Commuter becoming a regular feature here. (A variation might be Celebrity-Metro-Lookalike: I saw a Stevie Nicks on the redline yesterday. No shawl though and probably on her way to work at the Fajita Round-up. Holla, pip!)

And you wonder why I drink?

So this might be the last post before I leave for the weekend. I hardly need tell you how much I'm looking forward to this. I won't be sharing any salacious details of my Canadian exploits (sorry to disappoint my friends from the Middle East who routinely search for terms like "nippy fucky" and land on my blog). I will say, however, that said exploits will not only be salacious and libidinous, but also possibly gay. Like very very gay. And also the best. Ever.

And with that I bid you adieu!