The ticket collector
I sat on the train this morning next to a little hispanic man. When I sat down he was shuffling papers about and I thought nothing of it. After he jabbed me with his elbow a few times during his shuffling, I finally took notice of what he was doing. From every pocket on his person he kept finding more and more lottery tickets. Little Lotto, Powerball, Daily Four or whatever they are all called... there had to be a hundred lottery tickets. He'd read the numbers on one... move onto the next, occasionally circling the odd digit here or there with one of those stubbly free IKEA pencils. He was hunched over, protective of his little tickets... like a squirrel hiding away their winter nuts. Just when I thought he was done scouring the collection he'd amassed on his lap... he'd find another pocket in his coat or pants or shirt... and out would come more tickets. The train was running slowly this morning and I witnessed at least 30 minutes of this... until like a switch the man magically fell asleep (tickets still spread about his lap) and started snoring.