Thursday, February 16, 2012


So, while I was standing at the 830 bus stop last Saturday thinking about how the other half lives for an undisclosed amount of time, there was a group of female collegians performing various innocent shenanigans in the park immediately abutting the bus stop (the park abuts the bus stop, not the other way around).

I was not watching them in particular, but occasionally they would make noise as they were getting bubbles on each other or spraying each other with silly string, or tackling each other, etc., as female collegians will.  When they made noise, I would look up from my contemplations to ascertain that frivolity, not emergency, was the cause of the noise, and inevitably one of them would see me glance up and give me that special glare that female collegians reserve for creepers.  I could feel the daggers, even from several hundred feet away.

It made me laugh, because, for one, I was not remotely interested in their innocent shenanigans--I'm pretty sure my inward analysis of temporality and the fragility of life was more than interesting enough to hold my attention until the 830 should arrive.  Also, it was funny because I'm pretty sure none of them had any idea why I happened to be standing at that corner and not moving.  I'm used to this, but it's still a bit of a surprise when people try to hold it against me.  Silly people.

Besides, if I had really wanted to creeper them, I would have walked down to the next stop and waited there.  It was much closer.

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