AFTER 7

Rule number one. Never take mass transit in metro Atlanta after 7 p.m. You run into the "interesting" people then. Yesterday, I broke that rule - here's what went down.

I can't say that I was in a rush to get home yesterday. I was just so worn out from a day that started at 4 a.m. I just couldn't muster up the strength to rush to beat the 7p.m. layover.

The 7p.m. layover is primarily when the southbound train coming from North Springs stops at the Lindbergh station so everyone on the train can get out, and then wait for the Doraville train heading southbound to collect them.

It's a bit annoying and you really get exposed to a lot of different people in one small area.

Yesterday was no different. I quickly exited the train at the layover spot when "she" ran into me.

Woman : "All these people on the left side are going to Hell. Do you know that."

Me: "No I didn't."

Woman: "What do you do? You a lawyer?"

Me: "I'm a writer."

Woman: "Good because I need an editor. I write poems too. Do you have a business card. I want to share my life story. Do you have time to hear it?"

Me: "No, not really."

Woman: "It's short. Let me tell you. My mother and father were separated and I was a virgin at the age of 21. I had two children and they were taken away from me. Then I came under the influence of crack cocaine and did drugs. I was homeless and when I get hungry I turn tricks for money. But that's only because I'm hungry."

Me: "OK. This is a little too much to process."

Woman: "You see all these people they're going to Hell. Not you and me. See I saw something in you. We're going to Heaven. But these people on this side they're going to hell. No see they're OK. It's these people over here. You got a brown speck in your eye like mine. You going to heaven. Follow me I'll show you the way."

As she stepped forward to get into the Doraville train that just pulled up, I took two steps back and went into another part of the train - far away from her.

"That's what I get for leaving work after seven," I thought to myself.