From the author: Everybody knows you ain't supposed to talk direct to people's faces. Because that's what old people do. But somehow, even though she the most beautiful girl in the whole train car, she don't got a phone. So how we supposed to talk?
I get on at Stony Brook. There's a mess of old people in the car, who prolly still think phones are only for talking and taking pictures, so at Jackson, I switch cars.
Better. I sit down by the door and take out the phone, a Nokia HQX. Girls are supposed to look when you pull it out, like on the commercials. But my life ain't no commercial. I flip out the keyboard anyway and get on TruChat, to see if I can make something happen. I never can, if I'm being real, but I'm what they call a...