On the 140. It's pretty quiet today. I'm sitting by a nice girl with tattoos all over her forehead, eyelids, neck and chest. Ouch. It smells like roasted marshmallows in here. That's definitely an improvement from the usual smells of dirty laundry and body odor. Tattoo girl is gone. Now, I am next to a guy that's either really sleepy or really stoned, holding what looks like a skateboard wrapped up and a sweatshirt. He's holding onto it really tight though, so it's probably something else.