I got on the orange line today at Tasker-Morris station in south Philly.  With all the seats filled with butts and/or trash, I stood by the door.  Next stop, Ellsworth-Federal, and the last guy on the train looks to be about my age, or younger.  I think he was hispanic, but he had a few pieces of paper with some kind of Asian script on it.

He looked confused, his eyes were wide open, not to mention bloodshot and glassy.  “Is this going to center city?”

“Yeah.”

“….what year is it?”

Oh god it’s a crazy. “2012, my man.”

“Really? Really?! No way man.”

“Are you a time traveler, or just really stoned?”

“Time traveler, man.” Right.  “What year is it?”

“Two thousand twelve.”

At that point he was standing directly in front of me.  “No way man, I thought it was like 1985.  Definitely like 1984-1985”

He’s wearing clean and new DC shoes.  Should I be scared?  Lombard-South.  Oh my god. “Those shoe’s aren’t from the 80’s.”

“Oh yeah man someone gave these to me.  Everything looks kind of different.  Are things different?  I gotta make some phone calls.”

He walked away. Nervous laughter, cold sweat.  Oh my god, Walnut-Locust, and the express train was waiting across the platform.  I dashed out the door, I was safe. I just met a time traveler (or a teenager on drugs) and survived to tell about it.

Just a day in the life.