I think I let this loud burp out, I don’t know but I hope it was cute. I was too busy listening to Metallica Master of Puppets. Someday when I am in a nursing home, I will be say “Eh?” And point my finger in no general direction saying “Lars did it! He took my hearing!” Anyway, I felt this burp rumble up from my belly like a slow lazy ol’ thunderstorm. And the two guys on the back of the bus fidgeted. I wasn’t sure if I should say excuse me or not so I watched the bumper to bumper traffic on 26th and was thankful for the bus.
I’m wondering why I didn’t start The Bus Diaries earlier. What an awesome way to turn the boring and mundane time into an adventure. This 7:20 #9 bus isn’t crowded at all. And its a really cheerful bus driver. Sheryl. I have yet to see James, or Davor the Bosnian bus driver that is my absolute favorite. He calls me Jennifer. :). I sure do miss Frank when I ride the bus. At least he made me smile for awhile, my friend from childhood. I hope he finds what he wants in life, too bad he doesn’t know what that is. Muse Falling Down is playing, so I guess I will leave off here and go think of the friend I miss. This song reminds me of running all over this city on buses with him as the sun was rising and setting.
Going home- I get to the bus shelter to wait for my bus and have a pleasant conversation with a cheerful old man. I take my earbuds out of my ears to show respect to his words. He tells me that he lives by the 1st bus shelter built in this city and it’s wood. He said the owner of the property built it and gave it to the bus company to maintain. The owner didn’t want his residents freezing, he said with a smile. He asked what bus I was waiting for, the 3 I say and hold up 3 fingers. Good, he said…then I didn’t miss it. We talked traffic, weather, then the number 3 came around the corner before our conversation could get any deeper. He looks at me with sad eyes and says, You go first because I know where I been, but don’t know where I’m going.
I sort of laugh, but something about the way he said it and looked made me melancholy.
Sometimes it’s best that way.-I say.
He smiles as we board the bus,and says It’s always for the best, then you always have someplace to go.
I sit in back and he sits in front. After a few minutes we hit his stop and when he goes to get off the bus, he falls in the snow.
Everyone on the bus jumps up and watches. The bus driver opens the door. He shakes his head, struggling to his feet and waves the bus off. Then he falls again. The bus driver goes out the door but the man finally gets up. He’s talking to the bus driver and convinces him he’s ok. As we drive away, I watch the old man flexing his fingers from a fist to an open palm, over and over. His hands were in the snow from breaking his fall twice and he had no gloves.
Even though, something led me to think that that wasn’t it.
I’m a little sad. And I don’t even know him.
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