Hello. My Name is JJ and I Am So Important to You

it is a myth that woman talk more than men.

OMG! i am on the train headed to the congressional black caucus in washington, dc. (from new york city). there is a young guy sitting across the aisle and one row behind me. from the moment he stopped to unload his bags to the time the train pulled out of the tunnel at 34th street (a lapse of about 15 minutes), the guy – let’s call him JJ for “JabberJaws” – has NOT stopped TALKING!!

take me, now!

the poor woman sitting next to him is slightly engaging. not good.

in the time it takes me to wash my face and brush my teeth, i learned this about JJ:
he is a blogger for time magazine
what he wants his family and friend to do with his ashes when he is cremated
that he turned thirty today
that he missed his two early morning trains and ended up on this on
that he borrows his landlord’s juicer once a year to go on what he calls a “juice fast”
that he’s no “richard simmons typle” health guru
that he doesn’t like to take medicine
that he was on his way to the congressional black caucus, as well
and about 17 other mindless things that no stranger should know about you in the first 15 minutes of saying “Hello.”

is there a quiet car on this train? i need an upgrade to business class!

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