WHAT WE SO BLITHELY CALL "THE BUS" IS, IN FACT, ITS OWN LITTLE MICROCOSM WITHIN OUR LARGER SOCIETY. IT HAS ITS OWN RULES, ITS OWN JOYS AND DISAPPOINTMENTS, ITS OWN INSIDE JOKES, AND ITS OWN RABID FANS. THERE ARE NICE PEOPLE, MEAN PEOPLE, WEIRD PEOPLE, CLUELESS PEOPLE, AND ONE DEVASTATINGLY ATTRACTIVE BUSNINJA. AND IT IS NEVER, EVER BORING. IF YOU DON'T THINK UTAH HAS A THRIVING BUS CULTURE, YOU'RE MISSING OUT . . .
A couple of weeks ago I was cleaning, as I do sometimes. I reached under the kitchen sink for my cleaning product of choice, and was a little discombobulated when the number on the bottle was not the one I was expecting.
See, I had confused this:
Now, you may be saying to yourself, that man needs a new hobby. But the last time somebody said that on my blog, I ended up marrying her, so be careful.