Thursday, October 29, 2009

Bus from Baltimore to NYC

Bus ride from Baltimore to NYC—with load of passengers boarding at Wilmington, Delaware, 2 girls hop on—both tall, thin, attractive, both dressed same—tight black pants and gray hooded sweatshirts. After sitting and texting and adjusting her bag and standing to take off her sweatshirt, the brunette sits back down next to me and she smells nice. She pulls out a book of theology and highlights some phrases as she reads. College? Must be. But I get a kick outta how she enjoys being seen. She catches my glance while she leans forward to text. She smells good. Like soft clean clothing. Light fragrance. Nothing special or particularly alluring—just nice to smell something other than bus funk and old lady hair and Chick-fil-a and even my own musty smoke laden clothes. Small legs, thin—funny. I find her attractive but no thought of sex, just thoughts of college years and energy and youth and different priorities—that attractive life. Keys, phone, iPod btwn her legs on seat—she juggles them—changing tunes or txting friend who sits in front of her—texts of me or reading or nonsense or whatever? As I sit up to write this, she settles for the first time ‘cause I’m hunched over journal and she has no chance of side eye glance. Maybe I’m giving myself too much credit. But she smells nice. A small comfort on a long trip. She stands and startles friend with tap on shoulder before walking to restroom in back. Her bag has Andy Warhol’s face and banana on it. I’m incredibly curious about her school but don’t have courage to ask. But mystery and thought stimulus are better than movie. Thinking now that she’s probably a moron slut—why not? She only peaked my interest with her reading theology. And I’m the chubby hairy guy sitting next to her that smells of stale smoke. How many times have I looked out the window since starting to write this, to think and not look at her tiny funny legs pants boots? She's back.  Yeah, she’s definitely texting her friend in seat ahead. “Anne, Fordham University” reads her badge attached to keys as she stands to leave parking bus.

4 comments:

  1. I've never been so fortunate with seatmates on the bus. It is almost cliché how I attract creeps.

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  2. I like how you reference how pleasing she smells three times. It was a great, subtle unifier.

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  3. Reading theology and knows Warhol in a world of txting? "Moron slut" - yeah, right. You wish. = )

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  4. Sundance . . . are you sure? Read again. :P

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