Press Your Luck

So maybe I'm pressing my luck in doing this.

Friday, end of week, feel good.

Victim: Murray Hill, white, woman, 19-29, not fat, not married, regular. Mid-short blonde hair. Jeans and a blue Yankees t-shirt (Jeter) suggest she's not in the business sector. Medium sized coach bag. Low-bling but conservative jewelry set. I'm struggling for details. Flip flops, bright red toe nail polish.

She reads some trash love book until Summit then checks out to pose for a picture...or sleep.

Oh by the way Nat read my last blog with the pics and showed me how to put the phone on silent mode so I don't have to worry about the "snap" of the picture tipping the victim off. But you know this is going to bite me on the ass eventually. Funny what you'll do when you have an audience.

She's really out of it, her head nods up and down as she falls more deeply into sleep and fades entirely. Maybe I could stick the camera in her grill and snap a pic of her nostrils. When the train pauses at the main Amtrak line she wakes briefly, looks up, adjusts herself on the seat, and goes back to sleep.

Her perfume is a hair strong, but nice enough smelling. Too much makeup.

Assessment: Good.