Yesterday on the T on my way to “work” it was like a slow motion underwater ballet. It was one of those mornings when none of the trains ever got up to full-speed, so that it felt like it took about a half an hour to go one stop.

Later I had business at Boston Medical Center, and since I was going from my gym on the orange line I got off at Mass Ave., and walked the rest of the way. It’s always quicker than the bus. Always. Even if the transfer goes off without a hitch, traffic is always snarled around there. I have raced the bus before, and won walking.

Same going home from BMC, down Mass Ave. It’s a pretty desolate strip. If you just resign yourself to walking it’s not a problem, and you’re always sure to meet some interesting folks along the way. You can run some errands, too. Why not? If you like crack, you can pick some of that up, and then drop into South Bay Shopping Center for some Drāno, or whatever you wash it down with.

I stopped into the shopping center on my way home to pick up some oranges. I left the Stop-n-Shop, and was standing right outside the door, putting my big bag of oranges in my backpack when an old Mexicano drove by in a beat-up blue minivan, wagged his finger at me, gave me the evil eye, and then drove off.

You know, whatever.

It’d been kind of a long day, and I was not in the mood for magical realism, so I did my best to just ignore the whole incident. But it has continued to annoy me, even twenty-four hours later.