Strangers on the Train

Most of the time I am able to get myself a seat on the MRT on my way to work. Whenever I do so I take out my notebook and pen and jot down random notes. This morning I sat beside an elderly man and did the same. After ten minutes or so the man could not help but ask me where I was headed every morning and what I do for a living--he'd been very curious about me because, according to him, we are often together on the same train. Strange, because I hardly took notice of him until now.

The incident reminded me of something similar two years ago, when Alan and I attended the International Museum of Women (IMOW) presentation under the Museums Connect program at Ayala Museum. During the reception that followed, a woman approached me, introduced herself, and said that she'd been seeing me on the LRT2 (my route at the time) every morning. She said, "It's you! I always see you writing in your leather-bound notebook with a fountain pen, and I always tell myself, 'I like that man!'"