There was an R&B beat filling the train station today as I headed down to the platform. It came from a short, stout black man, who was wailing away on a cover of Usher's "You Remind Me of a Girl." I'm not sure why, but I almost always sit on the bench next to the performers. A few families crowded around as we waited for the train. One group consisted of two brothers, a mother, and a grandmother. The ladies were clearly entertained, and the grandma gave the singer some change in his tip bin. The older son was around 13. When we got on the train, he stood holding a pole, while his family all sat down in a row. He turned to his mom, looking crabby.
"Well, that was awkward."
"What was?" she asked.
"That guy!" he replied, surprised that it hadn't been glaringly obvious to her. "That guy," he repeated. His mom told him that she thought it was nice. He mumbled something about money to his little brother, who ignored him and cuddled up to their grandma.
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