illusionofjoy | Heartcore sounds like vomit rock

I like to watch the other passengers on the trolley. Most of the time it is merely an interesting study of human behaviour for me. I like to make up playful little anecdotes about the other riders as I coast to my destination. There are times that I outright condemn certain passengers, such as the group of fare-dodging bitches I mentioned a while back. More recently, there were two pre-pubescent boys who got off at Station Square who thought it would be funny to call the driver an "asshole" as they exited the car. Not two stops later, the driver was chasing some other pre-pubescent boy around the underground station, trying to apprehend him for some offence I didn't witness (though it would have to be pretty serious to make a trolley driver chase you about the station). The child was able to escape when the driver tripped and fell, much to my disappointment as a distant witness. These are people who do not need my imagination to create anecdotes. Their characterisation has already been cast.

Luckily, it would seem that the troublemakers are the exception, rather than the rule. I'm certain that the percentage of "undesirables" is much higher on buses that go through bad neighbourhoods, but Pittsburgh's trolley line runs through mostly mid to higher income properties (and downtown, of course).

Occasionally I see certain repeat passengers where my stories start to transcend the fiction I create to amuse myself and begin turning into theorisation. One such repeat passenger is an individual known only to me as "Used Girl."

Used Girl immediately stood out, not only because she boarded my train at the exact same stop at the exact same time as I rode home from work every morning but also because she usually wears a black hoodie with a bright pink heart on the back. Across the heart are scrawled the words, "The Used: Heartcore." Since the most notable part of her ensemble was a garment advertising a group whose most notable contributions to music were a blend of hard rock that appeal to both the 14-21 year old nu-metal and emo crowds and a lead vocalist who often puked on audience members during concerts, the nickname I gave her came naturally. It wasn't like I knew the girl's real name.

The hoodie is worn by a girl who can't be more than 16 years old. I'd be very surprised if she turned out to be 18, because she looks quite young to me. She's very thin with long bleach-blond hair. She boards the train in the same manner every single time. She climbs up the steps to the fare machine, deposits her money (why she doesn't buy a pass, since she rides every day is beyond me) and then chooses a place to sit. She usually sits either right in front of or behind me, or somewhere in my vicinity. Halfway between the stop before hers and where she is to disembark from the car, she taps the "stop request" strip - the same place every time. The train then stops and she exits. She doesn't smile during the entire time this is happening.

Of course, I'm not known to smile when I'm riding alone on the trolley either. I still wonder about this girl though. Among the mass of transit riders that filter through the trolleys and buses of Pittsburgh every day, she stood out for some reason. I think to myself, "this girl has a story." Granted, everyone in the world has a story, most of which are too boring to even consider reading; case in point: how many LiveJournals have you seen that amounted to nothing more than a waste of cyberspace? I've seen hundreds that I have no interest in ever reading again. I think though, that this girl has a story I'd be interested in reading.

I don't think I'll ever get the chance to read it though. For one thing, I rarely go up to people randomly and start talking to them (evilkellychan was an exception). To do such a thing on a city's mass transit system just raises the risk factor that much higher. If you were a teenage girl riding to wherever everyday and some freak just started talking to you, how would you react? Such an action would likely be a set-up for me to get maced and arrested, neither of which seem like appealing prospects.

So, I'm left with my questions and theories. Who is Used Girl? Does she like the band because the lead singer has yet to puke on her? Why does she always pay full price to ride the trolley? Why does she always sit somewhat near me? What makes her have this aura of sadness about her? Does she have a LiveJournal and does she write mopey teenage drivel in it?

Mundane...yet fascinating.