Subway Personalities By: Amanda Brown I dont know why I remember Martin buying a lollipop on the subway.

Less than twelve hours earlier I sent a simple text message. Hey, Ill be in Ozone Park tonight. And then there we were on the subway heading to Penn Station on a Thursday night. He had a copy of Waiting for Godot rolled in the pocket of his khaki shorts. I whispered to him that there was a family all wearing matching Crocs shoes across from us and nodded my head discreetly in their direction. And look at that guy, I mumbled, now nodding to a man whose gnarled fingers were holding a blue pen and a notebook filled with sheets of wide-ruled looseleaf. Just look at him. Hes writing something good. Its going to be famous. Martin curved up the edges of his mouth and said simply You know it. An unshaven man wearing a dark gray flannel decorated with holes approached us. His puffy blue vest made scrunching sounds when he moved. Do you want to buy a lollipop? Twenty-five cents? I looked away; I dont give money to strangers in New York City. I was surprised when Martin handed the man a quarter saying Sure, why not? Our stop was next. We got off and started running to catch our next train. As we hurried along the length of the platform Martin ran over to a nearby garbage can and tossed the grape lollipop. Poison, he shook his head and tried to steady his breath. Its poison I tell you! We both slowed down a little and laughed.