a junkie's promise

although weary of reducing all inbound commuters into townie stereotypes reminisent of the Lowell-inspired HBO classic documentary High on Crack Street, last Friday's encounter with one seat-digging-for-pennies, clearly-nodding-out-at-8am, half-smoked-cigarette-sucking individual left me with the same unsettling feeling that I had after seeing the documentary for the first time shortly after beginning my job in the City. Locals often complain about the bad rap that their dear Mill City gets from outsiders, but seriously-- when your morning commute is interrupted by a junkie's icy stare (this is somehow possible despite the fact that his eyes are rolled back in his head) and bony fingers being shoved between your butt and the back of your seat fishing around frantically for loose coinage, tell me-- what is a person supposed to think?