My tunnel of College men awaiting the Future In a long, bussling and busy subway tunnel, where strange occurances are regualr and confusing sights make for interesting spectacles, sits a lonely bench. Newly constructed around November 2004, the bench is spotless and shiny. The bench is labled corresponsively with train F, a new train that can only seat one lucky passanger but that has yet to leave dock and won't until its debut in 2005. The time is coming near for passangers to line up for the big arrival of train F, but until this weekend, the bench has remained bare.

February 13, 2005: A tall, thin, elegant black man with almond shaped eyes and an artsy scarf wrapped around his neck walks slowly down the tunnel after his long trip from NYC. His destination is exact and he has vowed to himself to never sit on a bench whose train will not board him. In this tunnel which is at times, less than sanitary, the man feels slightly out of ease but chooses to preceed. Mr. J finally spots the shinny new bench labled "F" and approaches. He is caustious, he is straight, and without sitting down, he sets his breif case on the bench and waits patiently to decide whether or not to sit.
February 14, 2005: The tunnel is quiet busy around lunch time with over firendly characters with fast paced steps on their way to train D for decision. Most of them have names like Celery and Tomato with the occasional Salad, but one man sticks out. Tan skin, leather sandals, short blonde hair and sunglasses, the Californian man gets a chill from the cold tunnel. Unaware of the black mans prescense, he checks out the bench for train F and sits down abruptly. Attempting to make conversation with the first man, awkward silence fills the space between them as they realise that they, the two opposite ends of the spectrum, are incompatible.
February 14, 2005: The tunnel has slowed down and still the two men sit on the bench. Unaware of the trains arrival, both have fallen asleep in upright positions. As informal as they come, a third man from Michigan, dressed in a snow jacket and carrying a bag labled "WWJD" rushes in on his cell phone while talking in a loud, boistrus tone. Completely oblivious of his surroundings, he sits down on bench F in the disterted tunnel.


All three wait on the bench. There is room for more. Who will board train F? Most likely the one who can pay the largest fair.....  ¶ 8:09 AM