You know, I really do like bus rides...
Jan. 23rd, 2004 03:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pipistrellafelixWhere else do you get conversations so bizarrely wonderful? With people you don't know? I wrote much in my cookie...
(2:25 pm, 71 bus)
Why is it that whenever I catch an earlier bus--be it 3:20 or 2:20 as today--tenguman is on it? (Note: I wrote a rather long description of a man who reminded my of a tengu, quigley, and neal all at once...about fifty pages ago in my cookie). He's sitting across the aisle from me. He isn't dashingly attractive, but he is rather incorrigibly good to look at. Comfortable to look at, maybe. He's reading a book -- "Madman and the Nun"-- in one of those old pearled library covers. I would rather like to have a conversation with him. I want to know where he works--it must be someplace fairly nice, because he's in khaki slacks and a blue and white collared shirt...but not so nice as to require dress shoes. he's in blue sneaker-types. Green Pacific Trails jacket and a backpack that looks fairly full...I really want to just sit here and see where he gets off...if I don't will he ever show up again? When did I get so weird about people? I do have things to do before movie night, but I still want to follow him...I'm not a stalker. Er. Realy. This isn't for immoral purposes. I'm just indelibly and indubitably curious.
I want to ask him how his book is and find out if he's read adn I have, and discuss them. Now he's switched books...he's folded the first few pages around the spine and I can't see the title.
He's put his book away and moved to the back of the bus...did he notice me looking at him, or does he just like the back? He has this manner, or air, that I want to describe but can't find words to do so.
Heh. I jsut turned sideways to take my scarf off (give my elbows more room) and I looked back--part of me wanted to but I really didn't mean it--and he looked up and saw me..just like right before he moved. I think he's noticed. I hope he doesn't mind. Excuse me, mister, I hope you don't mind me staring at you and glancing over at you to check what book you're reading and then writing pages and pages --because I've realized it is rather a lot--in my journal about you...it's just that you look like a tengu, and I find you to be terribly interesting. I wonder how that would go.
(a few minutes later, Third Place Books)
The man sitting behind me on the bus leaned over and said, "excuse me, what's a teng-gu?"
I said, "a kind of Japanese demon...a crow demon."
He looked enlightened.
He had glasses of the sort that made him look astute and scholarly rather than anythign else, and short ginger* hair and a small goatee (kind of an Anton Ohno style, but it didn't look bad). Slightly thin face, nice jacket and turtleneck and knit scarf. He seemed to realize he'd been reading my journal and said--without, however, any kind of repentance--"I'm sorry, it's only..."
"No, it's okay," I said, and meant it. His question was unexpected but not unwelcome.
He said something about people on the bus, and we had a conversation...maybe about whether I should go talk to tenguman.
I can't remember his words, but I replied with the story about the woman on the cell phone yesterday who didn't realize people were listening.
We were quiet for a minute, and then he said, "people are so segregated," and gestured at the bus at large--on which people were sitting as far from each other as possible--"I mean, they don't really talk to each other."
"Especially not on the bus," I agreed.
"It's not really too late," he told me, meaning in refrence to tenguman.
"Except that I'm getting off in two stops," I said. "But if history is any judge, any early bus I'll catch, he'll be on it."
He smiled, and said, "true."
The bus stopped and I stood up to get off and he said, "good luck." And I smiled all the way to Third Place and have not really stopped since.
I should have said, as I got off, "you know I'm going to haev to write about you next." I thought it. But I didn't say it.
(*This little star, what does it mean? Well, as I was writing my description of the man, I got to the word "ginger" and suddenly his hair, his voice, his indefinable air of gentlemanly oddness, all came together and my head thought: "ERASMUS!" Really, given the strange tenor of the conversation we had, I would not be at all suprised. And I don't remember the top of his head too much. And I didn't check for horns.)
I am on an incredible high off life. Wheeeee!
(2:25 pm, 71 bus)
Why is it that whenever I catch an earlier bus--be it 3:20 or 2:20 as today--tenguman is on it? (Note: I wrote a rather long description of a man who reminded my of a tengu, quigley, and neal all at once...about fifty pages ago in my cookie). He's sitting across the aisle from me. He isn't dashingly attractive, but he is rather incorrigibly good to look at. Comfortable to look at, maybe. He's reading a book -- "Madman and the Nun"-- in one of those old pearled library covers. I would rather like to have a conversation with him. I want to know where he works--it must be someplace fairly nice, because he's in khaki slacks and a blue and white collared shirt...but not so nice as to require dress shoes. he's in blue sneaker-types. Green Pacific Trails jacket and a backpack that looks fairly full...I really want to just sit here and see where he gets off...if I don't will he ever show up again? When did I get so weird about people? I do have things to do before movie night, but I still want to follow him...I'm not a stalker. Er. Realy. This isn't for immoral purposes. I'm just indelibly and indubitably curious.
I want to ask him how his book is and find out if he's read adn I have, and discuss them. Now he's switched books...he's folded the first few pages around the spine and I can't see the title.
He's put his book away and moved to the back of the bus...did he notice me looking at him, or does he just like the back? He has this manner, or air, that I want to describe but can't find words to do so.
Heh. I jsut turned sideways to take my scarf off (give my elbows more room) and I looked back--part of me wanted to but I really didn't mean it--and he looked up and saw me..just like right before he moved. I think he's noticed. I hope he doesn't mind. Excuse me, mister, I hope you don't mind me staring at you and glancing over at you to check what book you're reading and then writing pages and pages --because I've realized it is rather a lot--in my journal about you...it's just that you look like a tengu, and I find you to be terribly interesting. I wonder how that would go.
(a few minutes later, Third Place Books)
The man sitting behind me on the bus leaned over and said, "excuse me, what's a teng-gu?"
I said, "a kind of Japanese demon...a crow demon."
He looked enlightened.
He had glasses of the sort that made him look astute and scholarly rather than anythign else, and short ginger* hair and a small goatee (kind of an Anton Ohno style, but it didn't look bad). Slightly thin face, nice jacket and turtleneck and knit scarf. He seemed to realize he'd been reading my journal and said--without, however, any kind of repentance--"I'm sorry, it's only..."
"No, it's okay," I said, and meant it. His question was unexpected but not unwelcome.
He said something about people on the bus, and we had a conversation...maybe about whether I should go talk to tenguman.
I can't remember his words, but I replied with the story about the woman on the cell phone yesterday who didn't realize people were listening.
We were quiet for a minute, and then he said, "people are so segregated," and gestured at the bus at large--on which people were sitting as far from each other as possible--"I mean, they don't really talk to each other."
"Especially not on the bus," I agreed.
"It's not really too late," he told me, meaning in refrence to tenguman.
"Except that I'm getting off in two stops," I said. "But if history is any judge, any early bus I'll catch, he'll be on it."
He smiled, and said, "true."
The bus stopped and I stood up to get off and he said, "good luck." And I smiled all the way to Third Place and have not really stopped since.
I should have said, as I got off, "you know I'm going to haev to write about you next." I thought it. But I didn't say it.
(*This little star, what does it mean? Well, as I was writing my description of the man, I got to the word "ginger" and suddenly his hair, his voice, his indefinable air of gentlemanly oddness, all came together and my head thought: "ERASMUS!" Really, given the strange tenor of the conversation we had, I would not be at all suprised. And I don't remember the top of his head too much. And I didn't check for horns.)
I am on an incredible high off life. Wheeeee!
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no subject
Date: 2004-01-26 09:41 pm (UTC)If I am right, and I'm always right but feel the need to second guess myself, then I get another LJ friend who I actually know and more pleasing anecdotes to read in my procrastination regiment at the end of each day.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-28 12:53 pm (UTC)Er. I'll go add you to my list now...