Scant

There is nothing to write about. There are maybe 12 people on this entire train right now. Most are still asleep. 

I thought it might be snowing, but I was wrong. It was just cold. I woke up 30 seconds before my alarm, so I woke up rested, only to be startled to hell and back.

Spoke too soon:

Those pants replete with hooks and hoops are being worn by: what appears to be approximately a bald 55-60 year old "punk" man with bright Kool-aid-red eyebrows, and many faded light blue-green tattoos. Perhaps an original Ramones fan? He is jamming out to something and is my favorite person of the day so far.