He was wearing John Lennon style sunglasses, round and tinted a shade of yellow. His hair was a slightly lighter shade of yellow, with strands that became thinner as they neared his shoulders. His face showcased the result of way too much time in the sun, but in a way where I knew he had a damn good time during each and every moment. She had been there with him, catching rays, dancing by bonfires, but it seemed as though she maybe bought a bottle of sunblock every now and again. She was, in a word, delicate. Her thin wrist was draped over his leg, resting on his arm as he attempted to tear one of those paper bracelets off her arm. The kind you get when you enter a concert venue, and I imagined them out late the night before, swaying and singing along to one of their favorite rock 'n roll groups. Maybe they were big-wigs in the industry, ushered in through a side door and allowed backstage at their leisure, given bottles of water. As he attempted to remove the unremovable bracelet, they chatted with an easiness of two people who have known each other a long time. She wore the pants in this relationship, that much was clear, but not in a firm or forceful way. More in the way that he wasn't the type to ever even take a lingering look at the pants. No pants wearing for him. Partying, yes. Pants? Rules? Adulthood? Who needs 'em. Neither wore wedding rings. I got the impression there had never been a wedding, maybe something quick during one of their many trips, nor had there ever been a doubt in their minds about being together. One of those pairs where it was the two of them from day one, nothing and no one else. He was probably a musician, perhaps she was a journalist. A single manilla envelope lay on his lap and I'll tell you what, a single manilla envelope going with someone somewhere on the train will always tell me they are in the entertainment industry. There is a headshot in there, sides for an audition, a new contract to go over, a press release, a pitch for a new film.. More than one envelope, well, I can't be sure.
And all of a sudden, I thought how nice it would be to have what they have. To be in the later years in life, with your partner next to you, wearing evidence all over your face of the damn good fun you've had, an easiness and a calmness mixed with the energy of someone who is so very much alive and thirsty for life. To be an old dude rocking sunglasses on the train, to be the woman next to him with her hand resting on his, both of you facing forward, ready to take on whatever came next, together.