obviously i should have saved my marta post until today. there was this guy on my car today that got on at lindberg and rode up to dunwoody. he runs on the train at the very last second with a bike and sits down in one of the sets of chairs that face the interior of the train (there are two sets of these near the doors, the rest face the front or back of the train depending on which door is the closest).
he holds the bike in front of him, and a red bag is on his lap. he's wearing jeans with teh right leg rolled up, a white wife beater with a green ratty button up shirt over it, sleeves rolled up 3/4s, blue baseball cap and a blue and gray helmet on over it.
he's bobbing his head a bit with his eyes closed at first, which i don't think much of because everyone just listens to music on marta. then he starts bobbing his head really fast and shaking it and his leg is shaking and i'm like "omfg, he's having a seizure or some shit" then he starts tapping his fingers like a keyboard on his bag and i realize he's just tapping the beat out with his foot. i laugh a bit to myself because i'm retarded and completely over thought things.
well then he clenches his jaw and looks all serious and opens his eyes a bit and then starts like licking his lips and shaking and bobbing his head and you can just tell it got to the "hard" part of whatever rap song i'm sure he was listening to, and that it is spiritually touching the guy that is from the hard streets of dunwoody (which is a really nice part of atlanta, if it wasn't i wouldn't be living in it).
i'm fighting back laughter because he's way too into his music and it's hilarious because he looks like a fucking retard and then i swear to god, he starts scratching on his bag like it's a fucking turntable.
i'm really glad he got off when he did, i couldn't really hold myself together any longer.