10:30 AM Richmond bound train scene: brunette, 33 year-old (she told us) woman sitting on the floor in front of a 20-year old crunchie co-ed.

“In my country,” she rasps with the most smoky voice I’ve ever heard, “we love, we REALLY love.”

Pause, she takes the co-ed’s hand.

“And we hate, we know how to hate.”

Lots of palm holding and tracing, then 33 year-old starts compulsively tucking hair behind ears and coming hand through hair a few times. In the 20-minute trip from Embarcadero I had heard the introduction, the name exchange, all the way into the hand-holding. Co-ed had a bike and was positioning it protectively in front of her (it seemed).

I walk to the door to exit at MacArthur and the entire half of the train car is full of alcoholic sweat smell. Gotta love it- lovin’ in the mornin.