Still Trying

2003-10-04

On Friday morning, he showed up beside me on the bus stop. He chatted casually while I tried my best to keep myself from shitting my pants, for the lack of a better expression. When the bus came and I scrambled into my seat, I heard his voice, �May I sit with you?� and without waiting for my answer, he plopped himself next to me. This was too much for my fragile heart. I couldn�t utter a single word during the 10-minute ride. I was too aware of his body being near me, and how he leaned even closer to me whenever the bus took sharp turns. He smelled of a flowery shampoo. From the corner of my eye I watched him drumming his fingers on the book bag like a nervous wreck.

And when the bus halted to let a man with a dog cross the street, he turned to me and said, �I miss my dog.�

�Me too.� I quickly replied. �Well not your dog. Wait, I don�t have a dog.�

Sigh. I guess mesmerizing him with my conversation skills is out of the picture.

Once off the bus, we said bye and went our separate ways. Yet from that morning experience I managed to find out few things, such as his plans for the evening. He was headed to Backstreet to see the trailer trash theme drag show. Naturally, by 10pm I was standing outside the bar waiting to get in. Well, Jesus didn�t bless us with his appearance but I did see some good-looking trailer trash girls. And when asked if one of them is straight, they replied, �Honey I�m straight all right. I go straight from one man to the next.�