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May 15, 2008
Whenever I take the train, I get a coffee and some pretzels so that I can sit in the snack car.

Part of the appeal of the snack car is that there are only four tables, which forces people to sit together and chat. Snack car conversations are often scintillating.

This time, though, a surly teenage girl is sitting across from me. She explains that her iPod has run out of batteries.

“Social interaction is always plan B,” she says.

“I hear that!”

“People suck!”

We toast each other with our coffees and look out the window in silent accord.