As I looked out the window, spying but pretending to be so interested in the outside world, I saw a man with a small suitcase. He was well dressed and looked like he had enough money, and enough vacations in European countries like Italy, Spain and France. But underneath it, he too looked gay. Not the soft, feminine heterosexuality like the ' could have been friends ', no. He was more of an experienced, classy type. A " I ' m not gay, but I am " type chic. Either that or he was a player, a man who loved to toy with women ' s hearts. Textbook lover. Even though we stopped, he did not get on the bus, and we continued on our way.
The man with the dog got off. From the limited I could hear, the girls had been making cooing noises at the dog, but to no avail. On his way out, he mumbled something about his dog wanting a walk, but had gotten a bus to a shopping centre instead. This made me wonder why people got dogs in the first place. Me personally I wouldn’ t touch that man or his dog.
This man was replaced by three other people. By this time, more and more seats were being filled up. But none of them sat next to me. Either the guy I had talked to had warned planet earth not to engage in conversation with me or I was that sad and that lonely looking that not one person wanted to sit next to me on the bus.
Unexpectedly, a smell of a damp, dirty towel passed through. I’ m surprised that I didn’ t smell it earlier. I looked around at the limited floor I could see. It was filthy. The bus windows had bird shit on them. It has rained in a while. I held my breath but there was no escaping it. I had to get used to it. The window was open, but bus windows are never big enough. The smell was gone as quick as it came. I thought I was delusional. But there was no way to check. Unless I got up and asked if anyone had perfume or any
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