Sitting on the bench waiting for the train... it’s colder than when I left for work this morning.  I wish I had remembered my jacket. I am on the phone with my mom. She asks how the bank visit went. Okay. Just in the sense that it wasn’t good or bad, it just was.  My mom tells me that my brother is not doing okay in school, picking up with her usual habit of finding the worst aspects about someone.  She asks when I’m coming home to visit.  I pretend to be getting on the train and hang up.  The old lady with the tentative look in her eyes walks over.  She had been sitting in the corner eating a small piece of bread, but after the most recent announcement of the train arrival, she got up and made her way over.  She quietly asks if she can sit.  Okay.  As in yes, I really have no preference if you do. She talks about the way that the rain kept her from being able to feed the birds today and of how she feeds the birds for her father who can't do it anymore. After realizing that she was rambling, and how she doesn't consider that okay, she asks how I have been. Okay. Meaning, I am uncomfortable with this situation and don't want to be that person, so I will just respond with a vague answer. I look down at my phone, my friend has suddenly become busy and doesn't have time to go to the movies anymore. Oh, okay. I say meaning that it is not fine with me, and it makes me feel less important. But there is nothing I can do to change your mind so I will just hide my disappointment and reply with okay. The train is here, and I get up to go.  The man in the suit pushes by me, knocking me to the ground, clearly in a rush to get on a timed train.  “Sorry,” he calls back over his shoulder, and even though he is gone and can no longer hear me, I mutter that it’s okay.