Saturday, November 28, 2009
the story from yesterday
yesterday i was riding the bus home and i saw something sad... but couldn't keep from watching. could be that i couldn't look away because i thought the guy looked a bit like my Dad, but mostly because he seemed tired and sad. he was probably 45 or so and was a little bit round, he had on a few layers to keep him from the chill of the wind plus a Chicago Bulls gym bag that seemed to be full of clothes. he was reading the newspaper with yellowed fingers and chapped hands, fingernails unhealthily ridged ad crusty. about halfway through our ride it was as if he couldn't take it any more... he carefully slid his hand into the gym bag to a specific area then rested there fidgeting with something i couldn't see. not too long before the "pfffshhh" sound of a can of some beverage being opened in the bag. then some very careful posturing to position the newspaper between him and the bus driver's eyeline. the beer can came out and hid behind the paper as he tipped it into his eager mouth and then quickly returned the can to the gym bag. a few more cycles of this process before i got off the bus and went so comfortably into my nice happy apartment.