I bought a white, cotton, v-neck, Hanes undershirt yesterday. Up to now I've always worn singlets. This undershirt is very cool though. I feel like James Dean, especially when I'm wearing Matthew's sunglasses. Just the undershirt and the sunglasses. It's all you need. I'm off to impress Debbie.
I'm catching the bus to and from work most days now. Which is fine, it's a chance to just sit and think about the day to come or the day that's just been. But I am curious, though, about what I've come to think of as bus etiquette. Allow me to explain ...
Taking a seat
You get on the bus and there's only a few seats left. Who do you sit next to? The person in the closest spare seat? The smelly old guy in the back corner seat to show you're cool and democratic and think public transport is for all? The fat guy taking up a seat and a half, just so he doesn't feel so obvious doing so? The very nice looking young lady because, well, she's very nice looking? The schoolgirl taking up a seat when she shouldn't because there's adults standing now? These are all questions that demand a decision in the few seconds you're waiting for the driver to clip your ticket.
Ok, so, you've made your choice. You're sitting next to someone and the crowded bus starts emptying as people get off at their stops. Except you don't get off yet as your stop is near the end. And so, apparently, is the person's next to you. It becomes obvious, as the bus travels along, that there's a number of perfectly empty seats all around the bus, and yet you're sitting in very close proximity to the person next to you. What do you do? If you stay there, might they get worried you're a stalker or something, waiting to get off at their stop? I mean, why else would you sit so close to them when there's patently lots of other seats? But if you decide to just get up and slip off to an empty seat, what does that say? That the other person smells? That you've taken a dislike to them – instant and long-lasting – in the five minutes you've sat next to them? That you're just an insensitive brute?
A spare seat next to you
In some ways this is an even worse situation. You've got on the bus early and there's a spare seat next to you. The bus starts to fill up at each stop along the way. You make sure you're not taking up more than half the available space on the seat. But the seat next to you keeps getting passed over. The other seats fill up, but yours remains resolutely empty. What does this mean? How do you interpret this? Should you smile at people as they come down the aisle, inviting them with a soft glance to partake of the space beside you? Would they think you're a stalker if you do that? Might they misinterpret the smile? Should you just stare out the window, putting a brave, devil-may-face on the increasingly obvious fact that's there's something rather unsavory about you, and, really, no one's going to want to sit next to you even if this was the last bus bound for glory?
I haven't come up with any answers to these dilemmas. I do worry about them though. And then I worry that I think too much about them. And then I think I should write about them to try and clarify, in my own mind, what's at stake here. And then I worry some more about them ...
I guess life wasn't meant to be easy.
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Fetal medicine
This is the sort of site Deb's been hanging around in lately! Still, I guess it's better than those porn other sites she's been visiting.
Journals and blogs that I read regularly
Raising Hell
Feral Living
Hippycritical
Udder
My Life in 12 Point Font
Journal of a Writing Man
Some Jingle Jangle Morning
The Last Girl Scout
Potatoe.com
Journallife.com
Window to my Soul
Chickybabe
Sorabji.com
Yesterday's Makeup
Fifteen Milliliters
Fly Away
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made by mom
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Registered!
The Ageless Project
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Blogging Mommies
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Photo of tunnel copyright Bernd Klumpp, available from istockphoto.com