06.22.03
I was headed to Bucktown on the CTA, when a group of girls got on the train and sat down next to and near me. Their conversation covered a huge range of topics, mostly humorous, and I had a hard time not smirking or giggling the entire time they were there. It's one thing to listen in on a conversation, but that sort of crosses the lines of propriety.
Blonde, sitting two seats down from me, was wearing a toe ring. Brunette, who was sitting next to me, remarked on how attractive it was. Ginger, in between Blonde and myself, asked Brunette where her toe ring was, the one that Blonde had brought her back from Jamaica. Brunette looked sheepishly at both Blonde and Ginger, and related the following:
"I wore that thing religiously. You know, it was a mood ring. Well, I don't know if it was because it got bent too much, or because it couldn't keep up with my moods, but it died. t's not like I haven't been all over the place emotionally lately, you know. All of the mood juice leaked out and it quit working. I killed my mood ring."
Blonde and Ginger nodded sympathetically, and Blonde told Brunette that she had a whole bunch of toe rings from Jamaica, because they were so cheap, and that she would give Brunette another one later.
And I bit my lip until it almost bled.
What's in your head?