on the train into manhattan today there were three women from houston sitting right in front of me.
one said, i need me some big old white sunglasses, no rhinestones though.
another said, ya know my sister needs to live the life she was given, that's all there is to it.
the third said, i don't want any of them fake handbags. i want the real thing.
they all said, i just love your hair color.
i thought to myself, keaton and her feminists sure do have their work cut out with their own kind.
listening in a little longer and concluding it was mission impossible, i then wondered, if i jumped from this moving train, could i be certain i'd die.