A group of maybe five or six college students got on at my stop. They marvelled at how many of the people on the train were actually using it for some purpose other than to attend the parade. "Look at all these people wearing suits and shit," I believe were their words. "Fucking working stiffs."

They took a bunch of seats in my car, somewhere behind my seat (well, actually in front of my seat, as the train goes, but behind me -- I have a tendency to ride backwards on the train). At irregular intervals, they erupted into cheers.

"Red Sox! Wooo!"

"Let's go Red Sox <stomp stomp> Let's go Red Sox!"

"Rolling Rally!"

At another stop, another group of parade fans got on, or maybe they were just very agreeable, for the next time the cheer came around, they responded to every exclamation with a hearty "Yes!"

"Go Red Sox!"

"Yes!"

"Gonna get hammered today!"

"Yes!"

"Red Sox, wooo!"

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

"No, we say 'Yes,' you say 'Red Sox'!"

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

"Red Sox!"

A couple stops later, they went another round:

"Red Sox!"

"Yes!"

"Red Sox!"

"Yes!"

"Woooo!"

Then:

"There a pisser on this train!"

"Yes!"

"Where, I need it!"

"I hope so!"

The inquirer got up and consulted with the conductor. "Pisser's in the back!" he announced.

"Yes!" came the encouraging response, as a large guy started to make his way down the aisle, green plastic soda bottle in hand, only to disappear into the next car back.

Some minutes later, when he returned, the agreeable folk cheered, "He's back!"

"The pisser was closed!"

"Use the bottle!"

"I've got a strong bladder!"

"Yes!"

"Go Red Sox!"

"Yes!"

THE OTHER EVENING on my way home, as the train -- mostly empty by this point -- approached my station, I became aware of another passenger talking, in my car. Parade excitement aside, there doesn't tend to be much conversation on the train, especially not directed at other people on the train. (You can usually tell when someone's talking to someone at a distance, because they begin the conversation with "Hi, I'm on the train.")

The voice, as I first became aware of it, was male, with something like a slight Caribbean accent. "Can you smell it," he seemed to be saying. Repeating, actually, as you might repeat a phrase to a small child hoping to elicit a particular reaction. "Can you smell it?"

I can't say how many times he'd said this before I clued in on it, but it was coming from behind me, and odd as it was, it seemed just as likely that I was just hearing half of an unusual conversation on the phone, and I wasn't quite curious enough to speculate on what his interlocutor might be smelling.

It got a bit more interesting when the voice went on to say what sounded like, "Mind your own business. Get your feet away from me."

I heard giggling, maybe some quiet, dismissive scoffing.

"Don't judge me," said the first voice. "This is a society we live in."

Then the train pulled into my station.