I ride Seattle Metro route 358 to work every morning, and then again on the way home. Nearly every ride comes with a show. Here is one.
A young lady of probably 23-25 got on the bus one morning. It was fairly full by then, so she sat next to an older gentleman across the aile and one row up from me. No sooner than when the bus closed its doors and began to move then the older man leaned in towards her–even though her headphones were in her ears–and asked, “Do I have something green on my mouth?” I didn’t catch her expression, but I would imagine the combination of terror, confusion, and transparently fake politeness was the stuff of comedic gold. After she said no, he proceeded to explain to her why he would have green on his mouth, and then moved on to a one-sided conversation using such phrases as “my generation.” While I enjoyed the initial encounter, empathy for her took over rather quickly and I disconnected my brain from what was taking place (since there was not much else I could do), except for picking up an occasional word or two. I did get the impresson that it was an attempt to share misguided, 50-something-year-old wisdom with someone who didn’t ask for it. Yet the best part came when she left. He told her to have a nice day when she got up to leave, and when she was just stepping on to the curb, well out of earshot, the guy said ever-so-sincerely, “It’s your life . . . think about it.”