Overheard on the Metro

Today as I got on the Red Line from Metro Center there was a grumpy mother with her bouncy little daughter that got on the train with me. The train was pretty full, so mom sat in a seat in front of the little girl instead of next to her. The little girl looked so cute, with her hair in lots of little braids and her big poofy coat that was almost bigger than she was. She sat in the seat with her little legs dangling off the edge and looked up at the guy next to her. He was a big white guy with a beard, bandana, and a motorcycle helmet on his lap, staring emotionless into the tunnel. He couldn’t have been more different than the cheerful little black girl sitting at his side.
She looked at him for a minute, and then pointed to his helmet and asked, “Whuzzat?” He glanced down at her, and after a moment he replied, “It’s a helmet.”
“Oh,” she said. Then, “Whuzzit for?”
“For my motorcycle.” Her eyes got really big.
“A monercycle? Wow.” I was impressed that she knew what a motorcycle was, since she was so young. The little girl’s mom shot her an angry look to keep quiet, but the big guy was clearly warming up her already.
“Izzit fast?”
“Well,” he said, “it’s pretty fast. But I can’t drive it as fast as I want to.”
She got so excited that she climbed up and was hugging his arm, looking at the helmet. “Ifa I hadda monercycle, I go so fast!” (Mom glared again and told her to get down and stop bothering that man, but it was too late—they were already buddies.)
“Would you go faster than a speeding bullet?” he asked. She looked puzzled for a second.
“Iza bullet fast?”
“Yes, it’s very very fast.”
“Yay! Fast!”
By this point half the subway car was listening the conversation and smiling. Mom still looked a little cross with the little girl, but she was so endearing it was hard to be stern. The train pulled into Judiciary Square and mom said to her daughter, “C’mon, honey, it’s our stop.”
“Ohhhh.” She sighed disappointedly, let go of the helmet, and climbed down from her seat. She looked back at the biker guy and waved. “Bye!” she said.
The big burly guy smiled and waved back. And I got off at the next stop in a very good mood. That overheard conversation made my day.