I realize I’m extra late, but since about a zillion people sent this link to me while I was on my blogging hiatus (see yesterday’s post), and since it is relevant to both my world view and my own experience, and since it shows that folks in Washington State (and apparently, Oregon, New York, and New Jersey) know what’s up, I am sharing anyway.
The most common “Missed Connections,” by State:
Might be time to take out those ear buds, people.
Southbound 48, 2 PM: The man behind the wheel turned out to be the same man a longtime family friend brought to my nuptials, lo, those many (oh, was it only two?) years ago. I don’t actually know him, and until that ride, I had no idea he was a bus driver.
Tandy, props for your good taste in dates. How often does a bus chick get the chance to say to a driver, “Hey, I think you were a guest at my wedding!”
Eastbound 4, 8:30 PM: I rode with Smooth Jazz for the first time in almost a year. (The last time he was my driver, I think I was still busing while pregnant.) On this particular ride, he was dispensing his cool while politely fending off a rather forceful passenger-on-driver bus mack. Can’t say I blame the woman. If it weren’t for my amazingly fabulous Bus Nerd, I’d have a crush on Smooth Jazz.
Bus crush, n:
1. Feelings of overwhelming admiration–occasionally, though not necessarily, of a romantic nature–for a fellow passenger; excessive interest in, or curiosity about, a fellow passenger.
2. The object of such admiration or interest.
My biggest bus crush was (and still is) Bus Nerd, but I have minor bus crushes–on women, men, young, old, passengers, drivers–all the time. There was the mother-daughter team that used to ride my morning 48 to Montlake Elementary. The mother: in her early thirties; pretty; with flawless chocolate skin, a simple, pulled-back hairstyle, and a great fashion sense. Her daughter: an eight-year old, curly-headed BCiT who reminded me of myself when I was a young bus chick, minus the awkwardness, the shyness, and the “summer haircut” (a post for another time, my friends), and plus a rather unfortunate fondness for pink. I stopped seeing them years ago, but fortunately, I have my own little BCiT to ride with these days. There are the three siblings–a big brother, a little brother, and a baby sister–I see all over the city, on several bus routes and sometimes walking, never with parents. The big brother is in charge, looking after and scolding the younger two, and I make up all kinds of romantic stories about this threesome, most of which involve variations on a Party of Five theme. There is Georgiana, the cool grandma and 27 regular I finally met this year at my precinct caucus, after years of admiring her from afar. And of course, there is Smooth Jazz.
Your turn. Ever had a bus crush?