Bus Report #190
Here's what I saw from the bus window:
A stereotypical working mom, in a suit, heels, carrying a baby in a snugli, a purse and a briefcase.
A trashy woman with teased out hair and a huge, hideous calf tattoo peeking out from under her too-summery-for-this-weather skirt.
A bike messenger who must have wanted to get hit by a bus, he was so close to my window I could see threads of grey hair mixed in with his brown hair.
My first seat mate had horrible cold sores all around her mouth. I tried to stay as far away from her as possible.
The seats were sticky from (hopefully) cleaning fluids.
A girl across the aisle kept turning around and staring at me. I tried to ignore her.
My second seat mate decided to stare, too.
The Castle was empty when I got there. Very nice. After a while, the KnB club members arrived and we got down to the business of knitting and having a pint and fish and chips.
The bar filled up in anticipation of a free, live music night.
I noticed someone familiar sitting alone at the bar: It was Confederacy of Dunces Guy! As usual his hair looked as though he had slept on it for days.
He grinned and waved at me with an open hand.
I waved back.
Later, as he left, he waved again.
And so did I.