I was on the commuter rail this morning, watching the usual people get on and off at the usual stops, and as usual, drifting in and out of sleep (It's an early train...I'm not quite awake at that hour). I noticed this one guy sitting across from me who always has on cycling gear, thinking how ambitious it was for him to squeeze in that workout riding a bike to the train every day. I was sleepily aware of a petite blonde woman next to me, another regular face on the train. She was applying makeup. I drifted off into sleep again.

When I opened my eyes the next time the cyclist guy was kneeling in front of the blonde, talking to her soothingly and squeezing her hand as she stammered something about her "husband's girlfriend" and how it was "just one of those days." How she had thanked the girlfriend recently for taking care of her kids when the husband had them for the weekend and how lousy she felt thanking this woman which went against everything she believed in but she did take care of her kids so what could she do? And the awful thing was, this woman rode the same train, used to be a "commuter buddy" and she still automatically waved when she saw her riding the train. And now she said, she was putting on makeup to keep herself from crying. Cyclist guy said it was OK. I fell asleep again. I woke again to hear her asking him "How do you like fidelity?" I was startled, but after a few minutes I realized the cyclist guy probably worked at Fidelity Investments. It was odd, they kept going back and forth, referring to "Fidelity" the company and then going back to talking about her husband's infidelity. And the girlfriend, by coincidence, worked for Fidelity too. (The cyclist guy didn't know her.) It was surreal. I felt guilty for overhearing all of this, for seeing a stranger's pain without being invited in, but there was nowhere to go and I'm sure that she was so absorbed by her problems, my presence didn't even matter. It was a soap opera on wheels and I was the unwitting audience.

I've often wondered about my fellow passengers, what their individual stories were. I'd never thought the blonde woman looked especially interesting or sympathetic..she always seemed to be in a bad mood, and a little on the cold and boring side. I never thought the cyclist guy looked particularly sensitive. It made me realize that I sometimes dismiss people too easily, based on just a quick observation.

When you see someone with a sour expression and you automatically think they're a jerk, maybe it's something else. Maybe it's "one of those days" for them and someone is breaking their heart. Or maybe they really are an asshole. Will I remember to think this every time I see a stranger? Probably not, but at least I will today. Thank you, Cyclist Guy and Petite Blonde Woman, for giving me something to think about.