Sunday, February 14, 2016

BUS STORY # 484 (Cute Meet)

Still from "Bittoo trying to flirt Shruti"; downloaded from YouTube

I watch the guy sitting on the aisle-facing bench seats of the Rapid watch the young woman walk past him, on back to the row of seats across the aisle from mine. She slips in, pulls out a note pad and a smart phone, and plugs in an ear piece.

I’ll learn shortly she’s 18 (or says she is). Black, off-one-shoulder blouse, blue jeans, little black boots. He’s 27 (or will shortly say he is), in a black and gray and white striped sweater and gray pants.

He’s still watching her.

Pretty soon, he gets up and walks to the bench seats in front of the accordion pleats of the flex part of the bus, just in front of her seat. She is still looking down at her phone, but when he starts moving toward her, she smiles at the phone, a quick, little smile that says “Uh-huh.” Cracks me up.

He starts off with small talk, which consists of one question after another. You goin’ to school? Where?

She answers -- yes, CNM -- but doesn’t ask any questions back.

He goes to CNM, too. On the west side. How about her?

She’s on the main campus.

He tells her he really doesn’t spend much time there. He takes all his classes on line. He hates going to class.

And so it goes. He asks, she answers, he elaborates, then asks something new.

They bingo when they find out both their moms work at Pres. No way!

He asks how old she is. She hedges, doesn’t seem to want to answer. He tells her he’s 27. But he knows he looks younger. Then he presses her once again to tell him how old she is. 18. She says this in a little voice. He laughs. She laughs.

He tells her he was in the army for eight years, and now he’s going to school. His parents more or less kicked him out of the house when he was 17, although he explains they helped him get an apartment. He had his car and two bicycles stolen between then and going into the army.

He asks her where she’s getting off. Downtown. Hey, he is, too. Same place. That’s cool, huh? Cracks me up.

I can hear most of the conversation, but I’m sitting too close to watch either of their faces without being obvious. That’s a bummer. I can imagine his -- the persistent, optimistic earnestness is in his voice. I’d love to see hers, though, because I can’t tell exactly where she is on this. Certainly not putting him off.

I get off way before they do, but I feel buoyed up as well as amused by the old ceremony. I just might have been in on the start of something big.


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