Wednesday, July 29, 2009

yesterday, Harvard stop

Any seasoned eavesdropper is aware of the inverse relationship between the intrigue of a comment and the volume at which it's spoken. This makes a pack of teenagers, particularly shrill groups of co-ed acquaintances, one of the least interesting populations on the T. To the right, one is shrieking about her inability to be "cute" in a drama--obviously soliciting comments to the contrary--and to the left is a boy who wiggles his pelvis at the girl in front of him--a display of misplaced virility, as he's obviously gay, but still very masculine when he moves with carelessness, that ole totem of testosterone. By this I mean, his backpack swayed within an inch of my face.

There was one boy who just clung to a pole with slate-neutral body language, neither confirming or denying his membership in the group. When he spoke (in response to not-cute girl's question, I admit), he grinned, leaned in, and answered her in low, rapid speech, spilling his own roots (a public school, he admitted) before she could comment.

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