« On the Bus Part Two | Main | One of Those Days »
I would like to resist the urge to make this blog all about riding the bus. It is a compelling idea, doubtless inspirational to many other content-starved blogs. But today, I am too weak to resist the siren call of bus tales. Once again, it involves a damsel who resisted eye contact, the most innocuous form of pre-flirtation. At the bus stop the fairest damsel of the bus stop adjusted the settings of her portable cd player, studiously resisting eye-contact, the most subtle and perhaps intriguing form of flirtation. Eye contact implies mutual recognition, the basis of all interpersonal relationships.
Fridays may be the slowest day of the week on the 50 LTD. Everyone boarding was able to secure a free seat. It took me a while to find where the damsel had alit. There were still some open benches in the middle of the bus; it turns out she had grabbed one of the free seats across the aisle from the driver, normally a perch that offers superior protection from the schizophrenes. However, the cart-dragging schizophrene on this morning's 50 LTD sat right next to her.
This must have caused at least some consternation, but such are the perils and probabilities of taking the bus. However, a more sinister fate awaited her. As I watched her from my redoubt at the bench immediately behind the rear door, she exclaimed "GET YOUR HAND OFF ME!" Once again, a seemingly dominant strategy revealed its weakness. The man got off the bus at the next stop, perhaps both chagrined and excited by his provocation.
Follow up: I exited the 50 LTD and proceeded to Harvard Market to get some cough drops. On the way over to the classroom, I crossed paths once more with the damsel. And lo, there was the fast eye!
Posted by Underblog at January 28, 2005 11:26 AM
wondering if the ole romans had these sorts of situations on their chariots
Posted by: heather at February 4, 2005 1:17 AM