This was supposed to be a post about my car being in the shop, yet again, and trying to knit on SEPTA this morning. But, after being caught in a lightening storm, knitting is not even a thought right now. I have to tell you about my journey into work this morning. Since I feel like I was caught in the scene of a religious thriller, I have to weave the story for you. I’m rusty, but I have to do it to calm my nerves.
Part 1 – Knitting In A Telephone Booth
So, I grabbed another knitting project to take with me on the bus ride to work this morning. It was raining lightly, on and off, just enough to annoy you. Once I got onto the bus, I made my way to seat that was facing forward. Not to be confused with a seat that faced out toward the isle. Made that mistake yesterday and felt like I was going to be tossed onto the floor each time the driver took a turn really fast.
Anywhoo, I got comfy, or as comfy as you can get on PT (public transportation), and pulled out my work in progress scarf. Today I had metal needles and I didn’t really give it much thought until I started knitting a few rows. Then came the note to self: buy bamboo needles from now on. They are much quieter.
I’m knitting in a seat made for a child and it literally feels like I’m knitting in a phone booth. The needle kept hitting the window and there really wasn’t enough room to move my arms in that famous knitter’s “throwing the yarn” fashion. Now, I missed that isle seat.
I somehow messed up the pattern, probably from trying to adjust myself in the seat so I could knit, and dropped one of the needles. It hit the floor with a clink and I couldn’t stop the rolling with my foot. It came to rest under the feet of one of the high school boys sitting in front of me. Crap! He picked it up and they tried to register what it was before turning to look at me with a “what the hell is this?” look on their faces. Since I had the iPod on, I didn’t feel the need to make conversation or answer their stupid face questions. I just smiled, said thank you and grabbed my needle.
At this point, I was ready to pack it in, but knew I had more than a little time left on this bus before making my next bus connection. So, I sucked up and toughed it out. I eventually stopped thinking about the phone booth and got in a groove. Albeit, a slow groove.
I’m on the next bus, found a window seat and start knitting again. Why is this seat worse than the last one? I tried angling myself in every possible way, but the needle kept hitting the window, the clicking of the needles was hard to ignore and I was just plain uncomfortable. Then she sat next to me. I don’t know who she is, and it’s not important. It’s only important that I now had less room then I had when I had less room! She took one look at the knitting and turned away.
Most of the time people are curious and they’ll ask a question or look at what I’m doing. Again, thank God for the iPod. No questions, comments or conversation. I guess the clicking got to her because the first chance she got, she moved to another seat. Whatever, move room for me.
By the time we made our way over to City Ave, I was tired of fighting with the window and packed up the knitting one last time. It was almost time for me to get off the buss anyway so I just looked out the window at the rain. That’s when I noticed how dark the sky was becoming.
Tags: septa
