Aisle, aisle, aisle.

It was almost 9 o' clock in the morning when I found myself boarding a train. There weren't many passengers on the rail car and it splashed a bit of relief over me. More room to stretch out and make myself comfy is what I'm trying to say. While sitting in my royal blue, cushioned, airliner type seat, I noticed a tall, middle-aged, blonde haired woman standing in the aisle. I thought she was lost at first, and I began to sit up and clear my throat to speak to her. When I sat up straight, I realized she wasn't lost. This woman in the aisle was talking to the older man I saw at the train station earlier, before we all boarded. I had briefly noticed the two talking in the station thirty minutes prior.

When I noticed them at the station, the woman talked to the man like she had known him for years. However, his arms crossed over his chest and impatient foot tapping on the tile floor of the train station made their relationship appear as anything but friendly. Both were carrying laptop cases and I assumed they were co-workers, or maybe even members of a secret yuppie society I wasn't aware existed. Like Fight Club; Rule #1: Don't talk about Fight Club, and here, this lady couldn't shut up about it. I get it now. That's why the man's demeanor seemed to grow more irritated with each word that rushed out of the woman's mouth. Her matte pink lips served as a useless dam, allowing words to flood from her mouth. I caught a few snippets from the one way conversation: "in the F.B.I.", "that's why", "so cool", and, "I was excited". I'm certain I paid more attention to the woman's talking than did the object of her intentions...(whatever those were).

But back to the train...

So here was this woman, holding onto the overheard compartment loosely, standing in the middle aisle, trying to stir up a conversation with this guy who was slumped down in his seat, holding his coat over his upper body like a blanket, staring out the window as the woman went on and on. There was an empty seat next to the one he sat in, yet he didn't offer it to her and she didn't ask to sit. I had to wonder why she didn't seem to get the hint that he wasn't interested in discussing Fight Club, the F.B.I., newly release cinemas, or anything for that matter. I imagine it didn't faze her because she never stopped talking to even notice. If the man did decide to communicate with this woman, it would've taken an operator to emergency intercept her non-stop monologue to give him an opportunity of silence to begin a sentence.

After twenty minutes had passed, and I directed my attention to writing dates in my new planner, I looked up again and was sucked back into the blonde, black hole. 

Really? She's still standing in the aisle? And he still hasn't asked her to sit down? Damn. That lady's got some perseverance and stamina. I didn't know if I was supposed to be sympathetic or envious of her, "I'm not a quitter", outlook. Another twenty minutes passed and she was still standing there in the aisle. I began to repeat that word to myself because its not a word that I use often;

Aisle, aisle, aisle.

I looked down at her hands and noticed she wasn't wearing a wedding ring. Ah-ha! I get it now! I wanted to offer this woman the empty seat next to mine so I could break the news to her gently. I wanted to tell her that the guy she was pursuing didn't care to engage in conversation with her and didn't care that she had been standing in the aisle on a train for over an hour, trying to share a connection with him. If he wouldn't engage in conversation with her, chances are he wouldn't engage in anything else with her. And he would never care how long she stood at the end of any aisle, namely a wedding aisle, waiting.