"You want a cookie?" he asked everybody who sat near him. "Hey, you want a cookie? I'm being very generous today. You two, you can have some cookies, because I'm generous." I politely refused, as while my mother never exactly taught me not to take cookies from strangers on the T, I'm sure it follows the same principles of her other lessons.
The guy was loud, almost aggressively friendly in his cookie handing-out, and made a point of loudly asserting his generosity. Then, once everybody was suitably cookie-fied, he took it upon himself to start his next round of speeches.
"George W Bush is a great man in the White House with great morals," he began, in an cadence that suggested he'd rote-memorized this statement or at least had taken great care to string his words together. "He will bring peace to this country with diplomacy, and we should all give thanks that he is in the White House. He is a great man. Hey, want a cookie?"
This certainly came out of left field. Although we had just swung thru Harvard, Central and Kendall, none of the Cantabrigians picked up felt necessary to debate him on his views (I've heard quite a few interesting arguments between oldschool hippies and neo-Larouchies, for one.) He seemed harmless enough, but might fly off the handle if provoked. And he may poison his cookies. At any rate, when the fellow spotted someone reading the Globe, it was time for another speech.
"The Herald is the only newspaper that tells it like it is," he said, in that same sing-song cadence. "If you want something sugar-coated, get a donut. If you want the truth, get the Herald. George W Bush is a great man in the White House with great morals. He will bring peace to this country with diplomacy..."
I left at South Station and he was still giving out cookies. I was kind of glad I didn't take a cookie.