I’d argue there are few things funnier in life than the faces people make when a Green Line trolley on the dreaded B line, seemingly arbitrarily, decides to go express and pass them right by. Beneath furrowed brows, they look both exhausted and resigned. Protest and acceptance together create a sad state of equilibrium in their wrinkles. They are disappointment incarnate, watching their ride to work go on without them. You can almost feel their contempt through the windows. It’s probably raining out too. More
