Random tram thoughts 1

In the absence of anything particular to complain or fret about, I’m going to write about something entirely insignificant that I observed during today’s morning commute. By some miracle I was a couple of trams earlier than usual, so it was not too crowded. A few stops into my journey, I randomly noticed that the two people opposite me were wearing the same shoes. I mean, hers were brown and small, and his were black and much larger, but they were very similar in model, with matching white piping detail.

Subtle closer inspection revealed that these feet belonged to a girl and boy in their early 20s. In my pre-8am fog I hadn’t noticed when they had taken their seats, or even if they had appeared together. Now they seemed each to be lost in their own thoughts, isolated and insulated by the inevitable personal headphones (as indeed was I), showing no sign that they knew each other or were even aware of each other's presence. With nothing better to occupy my tired brain, I briefly pondered the chances of two people wearing such similar shoes sitting next to each other entirely by coincidence.

Zero, as it turned out. A few stops later, the girl turned and said something quietly to her companion, removing one earphone to do so, and obliging him to do the same. So they were at least acquaintances, if not a couple. This set off a new train of speculation; did they set out with matching shoes deliberately? Perhaps it was this that brought them together, hearts set alight as their eyes met over the white-piped-trainers section at Shoes-r-Us...

I can’t remember, on the rare occasions I’ve traveled on local public transport with my Other Half, every having felt the need to shut myself in my private musical world, as I often do when I am alone. Maybe if we made the same daily commute side by side I’d think differently, although I’m not sure that OH would approve. These two obviously had some agreement in place, as following the brief exchange, they immediately returned to their individual headphone-assisted meditation.

Then, precisely two tram stations before my stop (which also turned out to be theirs), and without any communication or interaction between them that I could see, they both simultaneously started rolling a cigarette. Hers with a filter, his without, but otherwise identical. They spent the rest of the trip fidgeting with their cigs and making lighter movements with their respective thumbs, still lost in their inner worlds.

I descended by a different door to them, and no doubt will never see them again. I don’t know if this mini non-encounter had anything to do with anything at all, but I failed to switch to my habitual tram-to-office tunes, and instead trundled along to “Wild Horses” by the Rolling Stones. I was so luxuriously early that for once I did not have to scurry blindly, but had time to notice that the sky was a glorious patchwork of blue and brilliant orange in anticipation of the imminent sunrise. Life felt good.