Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Tuesday 30: Buses



 
 
 
At high hours in the morning, after having risen early, slept less than six hours, bringing the breakfast in a hand if you're lucky (aka coffee in a cup to take, let's see if like this you can make up your mind)  going running while rain falls, and when you get to the stop and're about to get on, they tell you that this little pleasure that is provided of morning caffeine can not enter by the door.



  
After work, or school, eager to get home, or to the meeting with that person you knew someday on the way to somewhere, and decides to arrive 30 minutes late, standing in the middle of an avenue for some small breakdown in the mechanical system of that rusty lever projecting through the door.
 


Loading with the portfolio of books, the bag with sports apparel for then, the little lunch bag and a wallet where you keep the work you're putting in 2 hours after and that you have prepared  hardly throughout the week, but not even with a master in tetris you'll get them all strategically place in your seat, nor even think the idea of ​​using the top shelf above the seats (very uncomfortable), so the best idea is to use the seat next to you, but then a person decides to disable your proposal resting his weight on the defenceless seat.


 
 
You find out on Sunday, when all tobacconist and non-suspicious shops have being closed, that your season ticket has expired, or that the ticket price has risen (it will never fall down) and you have to buy or change yours before tomorrow morning , what's about 9 hours.


But that's the moment when, after hiding (with so many days of practice on your back) your strong morning coffee, and place all your stuff getting immobilize yourself on your own seat, and all those actions that are already more than a routine, you feel like at home.


 
 
You always try to sit in the same area, you know that gentleman boy that greets you every morning although you don't know him personally, and that gets off two stops before you; but the other half of people who takes it up, are unknown for you, whose lives you imagine and think about all along the way.

 






  The traffic sound gets liven up by the music of your headphones and the conversation you have with your peers, those with you only talk on those four wheels, and in that small journey you discover that are alike you more than what you expected, and sometimes it partly open your mind to new ideas, there's no doubt that these morning conversations are of the best of the day, but you might not have yet noticed it




You can read, study those outstanding notes, or recover those hours of sleep you can not stop with the coffee that is hidden inside the jacket.
 



And when you're not busy talking and you stop and look a little, you find a person that you can't get off your sight, you can say you're attracted to and that there is something that makes you ask yourself to change your seat and start a conversation, but it's just that, an entertainment in a journey.






 

And when you got used to this, and as part of your daily routine, you realize that it's harder to get off the bus than getting on.


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