It's ten thirty on a Thursday morning, an odd time for anyone to be on the train headed into San Francisco. The commuters are all at work already and it's too early and altogether too dreary a day to be going into the city for fun.
I find myself with an interesting assortment of fellow passengers. The woman across from me is sleek, speaking self-importantly into the headset of her phone while she stares at her own reflection. She is a business woman to guess from her clothes and precise makeup. The train acts as an office for her; she talks loudly about education programs for Safeway.
Behind her is a man, handsome and kindly looking. His tiny son is with him, a positive cherub with his blond fluff and dimples. Dad has with him a huge bike with a baby seat. It strikes me as fool hardy to transport such a child through the busy streets of San Francisco with nothing but a helmet and child seat for protection.Cherub curls into the seat and takes tiny bites from a big green apple while Dad talks to him seriously, pointing to the skyline of the city in the distance. They are going to the city for a ride in Golden Gate park. At the end of a their ride, they will stop at a push cart for hot dogs. Sitting on a bench Cherub will eat his hot dog solemnly while Dad calls Mom from his cell phone. She works in the city, a business woman, and they are all going to take the train home together.
