The Metro is our subway. As I seldom sit down I ‘surf’ it almost every day into town. Only in the winter that is, as I peddle the amazing ridesharing BIXI bikes through the summer months. 

  Whereas most passengers on the Metro are absorbed in their phones I spend my time in the agreeable act of watching people. I cannot help myself. They feed me, you could say. 

  There’s the young fella with a black jacket, his hood pulled up over his head and black necky pulled up to his eyes. What’s that, I wonder, a ninja assassin look? He’s holding and grooving to a phone that is playing pulsing rap music and catching every reflection he can from the car windows. Thankfully the phone volume is not too loud. Is rap all urban gangsta vibe and angry aggression, I wonder? Is there any joy and love? 

  Another fella steps into the car and sits down nearby. He has long unruly hair, a moustache and beard and his movements are jerky. He proceeds to pull a muffin and plastic container filled with some kind of vegetable salad from a bag. The young man next to him sinks further into his seat and continues playing a video game on his phone. The man removes the lid from the container, tosses it on an empty seat, and begins to eat the salad with his fingers. Bits spill to the car floor. 

  Over at the next set of train doors the ninja warrior is striking poses and taking a series of selfies. 

  As we pull into the a station the jerky man quickly grabs the lid and presses it securely on the container, muttering all the while to himself. Then he rapidly stows muffin and container back into the bag and to my surprise reaches down and picks the fallen fragments from the floor. Having cleaned up after himself he hustles through the open doors and disappears.