Dear Diary:
It was rush hour, and I had just boarded a packed E train at Penn Station.
I noticed an empty seat next to an extremely large and intimidating-looking man. He was wearing a weathered motorcycle-type jacket, and his hair was rather wild, matching the expression on his face.
I told myself not to judge a book by its cover and sat down next to him. I did my best not to brush up against him and kept my eyes straight ahead.
After a few moments, I felt my mouth getting dry. I pulled out my ChapStick and applied it to my lips.
A moment later, the giant of a man next to me reached into his pocket and pulled out his own ChapStick.
“I prefer cherry myself,” he said.
— Mitchell Chwatt
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