Bus Report #1028

Rainy afternoon last week, waiting for the bus. I wanted to take the 10 so I could run some errands downtown before a meeting, but the bus was nowhere in sight yet.
M., a friendly guy with a yappy little show dog, walked down the hill to stand and chat. We work in the same building and he's nice. We like to catch up and commiserate about work whenever we see each other. He zipped his dog into her carrier and we waited, the rain light enough that it didn't necessitate an umbrella but heavy enough that everything was getting wet.
"I'd love to be home already," M. said, "shoes off, with a nice single malt."
I smiled. "That sounds amazing. I might do that when I get home."
We got to talking about our favorite whiskys, and it turns out we're both fans of Islay single malts, though I like mine more peaty than he does. I confess to a moment of giddiness thinking about Islay, and Highland Cows, and sitting in the Lagavulin distillery last spring. I might have done a little happy dance, but I can't remember.
He told me about a new whisky bar downtown and we talked Scotch until the 10 Townsend appeared over the top of the hill.
"I hope yours comes soon, too," I said, heading for the 10.
The 22 was right behind it.
I hope M. got his wish that night.