I get to and from work by CTA each day. That means the train, or the ‘EL’ here in Chicago. It’s called the ‘EL’ as an abbreviation for ‘elevated,’ even though it seems like most of my time on it is spent underground. In those subterranean moments, weird things happen. One time a man got on board with a city-owned trash bin and announced that everyone else should mind their own business. Another time, a guy sang the Battle Hymn of the Republic followed by Iggy Azalea’s ‘Fancy.’ Very few people ever strike up conversation with me, but sometimes it happens.