Bus Report #527
Last night, back of the 2 Clement:
I sat in the back of the 2 Clement, with a handful of other ladies sitting nearby. One of them, a bleach blonde with lots of buttons pinned to her sweatshirt, gestured to the woman sitting across from me. "Excuse me," she said. "But did you drop something?"
She pointed under the woman's seat. The woman, we'll call her red glasses because she had, no surprise, red glasses, peered under the seat and fished out a pair of blue jeans.
"Not mine," she said, and left them on the seat next to her.
I said, "They could be," and all the ladies laughed. Red glasses checked the tag to see what size the jeans were, then abandoned them again.
I sat in the back of the 2 Clement, with a handful of other ladies sitting nearby. One of them, a bleach blonde with lots of buttons pinned to her sweatshirt, gestured to the woman sitting across from me. "Excuse me," she said. "But did you drop something?"
She pointed under the woman's seat. The woman, we'll call her red glasses because she had, no surprise, red glasses, peered under the seat and fished out a pair of blue jeans.
"Not mine," she said, and left them on the seat next to her.
I said, "They could be," and all the ladies laughed. Red glasses checked the tag to see what size the jeans were, then abandoned them again.
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