
Beyond the minute environmental difference I'm making, I get a lot more than I give in this deal. The eavesdropping opportunities on the train are fabulous. (I partially make my living off of overhearing others' conversations--don't say you weren't warned.) This morning, on the 9:29 ride from Rice-Eccles Stadium, two rough-hewn guys, just slightly liquored up, got on at the Library stop, sat right behind me and spent the next three minutes (until I got off the train at Gallivan Plaza) comparing the prowess of martial arts heroes. Here is their approximate conversation:
Guy 1: A lady friend gave me this diamond earring (points to his ear).
Guy 2: You better have it in the right ear. You could get beat up for wearing it in the wrong ear, my man.
Guy 1: Yeah, but they'd have to be tough, man. They'd have to be Bruce Lee to beat me up.
Guy 2: Bruce Lee. Oh man, he was the baddest martial arts dude. The baddest.
Guy 1: What about Chuck Norris?
Guy 2: Chuck Norris. He's bad. He's the second baddest.
Guy 1: I'll agree with you there, man. And Jet Li. He's the third baddest. Him and that guy in Transformers.
(Holly Mullen)