7:06 am
Silently I stand watching the T.V while eating my rye toast with eggs. In the background you can hear the weather man discussing today’s forecast along with traffic.
“Showers, with scattered thunder storms is expected today. Traffic report…there are delays on the New Jersey Turnpike 1-95 express lanes northbound from exit 71..”
I debate whether I should take the car or train. For most people, the thought of slogging through traffic is comparable to being filleted alive. The honking, the slow inch by inch progression, and assholes cutting you off are enough to make most humans wonder whether they’ve inadvertently entered a new ring of hell. Yet for me, driving along in traffic has a sort of calm, blissful mind numbing feel to it. I more or less accept the situation as is. Nothing can be done. Instead of fighting it, I simply allow myself to be sedated; to ride the turnpike, along with the other souls who drift nowhere inside Dante’s inferno.
I pray traffic is as bad as they say it is.
7:25 am
Reaching a corner along some street, I notice the same man who usually tries to sell passer byers the morning news paper. I search my pockets for loose change. It’s beginning to rain pretty bad, and I simply feel guilty he’s out there and I’m in my car driving.
“Paper?” the man asks. He tightly secures a collection of news papers, that shuffles underneath his raincoat. I look up and I’m immediately struck by how particularly haggard his face looks today. New wrinkles cut across his face like etched markings atop an old used desk.
“The light is about to change.” he alerts, looking straight ahead. I blink my eyes, and apologize for the delay. I can’t find a single spare cent anywhere. Finally, I give up and simply hand him five dollars. He looks at me, and turns away the cash.
“Here, take it. It’s not like these things are worth a damn now, what with those fancy phones.” he coughs, handing me the paper. I reach over and take my free issue, my face cracking an uncertain smile.
“Yea. Way of the future now. Out with the old, in with the new, right?” he says leering down. I didn’t say anything back. I just kept staring into his hallow, black eyes.
“Light is green.” he informs me. The car behind me beeps, and I finally feel myself return back to earth. I shake my head in agreement and toss the paper onto the passengers seat. Giving my thanks, I promise him I’ll pay him back.
The guy just smiles, and waves as I drive away.
8:11 am
Sitting inside my car, within the parking deck I look down at my phone. It flashes me an alert about another text from my girlfriend who questions me about the traffic. I begin to type something back before stopping. Seconds pass until I decide on leaving my telephone behind in the glove compartment. I could use a break from all the constant messaging. I look over at the passengers seat and see the lightly dampened newspaper given to me by the old man. It’s been awhile since reading a newspaper. The dry, dirty feel of the newspaper has an odd alien sensation to it, as it rubs against my fingertips. I turn through the pages, reading certain headlines, while noting some of the typos within the rag: likely a product of reduced staff and diminished pay. I really didn’t have any intention of reading the damn thing when waving down the guy. Hell, I was gonna just chuck it in the garbage. Whatever my intentions were initially, something inside me felt obligated now to take it with me. Suddenly from the corner of my eye, I see a familiar face. It’s that woman Marie from yesterday. She’s making her way towards the parking deck’s stairs with a coffee in hand. My eyes slowly trail her, before she finally disappears behind a line of parked cars.
