The simplest things in life can be the most complex diversions, especially for someone like me. How many times I've concentrated on a minute detail I can't say. How many times I have derived a special meaning from that detail is also unfathomable. For instance, a simple bus ride, part of my everyday routine, was an eye opener to my self-inflicted monotony.
Same old routine. The thought skipped through my head as I stepped foot on the bus, the action leaving me a little unbalanced as always. I headed towards my seat - the third seat on the right. As I walked, I noted one difference at least; the faint smell of b.o. had been replaced by a thick, sickingly sweet, watermelon scent. Some kid was greedily licking on a Jolly Rancher sucker in the front.
Thanks kid. I plopped down in the brown, leather seat, feeling a mixture of relief and dissatisfaction. Realizing I had left my purse in my fourth block class didn't help matters much. I had half a bag of sour gumy worms stashed in there. I could have finished them off on the ride home. It would have given me something to do for a change.
"Hey Lisa," The girl who always sat in front of me turned around and gave me a blank look. "Do you think I could make it to Mrs. Hilt's room before K.C. takes off?" I asked nodding at the elderly but competent bus driver.
"It's upstairs." She replied, stating the obvious.
"I'm a track star, hon. I can make it." I commented, feigning arrogance. I wasn't really the cocky type. She knew it. I tried not to laugh when she rolled her eyes so hard, her gray contacts nearly popped out. Not laughing wasn't as hard as I thought it might be though. I glanced up at the bus driver, sitting calmly, awaiting the rest of his passengers.
"K.C.," the bus driver looked at me through his mirror. "I left my purse in my classroom. You think I got time to run and get it? " I asked, only half joking. The more I thought about those fruity gummy worms the more I wanted them in my possession.
"Nope, you ain't got time." He replied good-naturedly.
"Dag," I said loud enough for both K.C. and Lisa to here, "if I hadn't wasted so much time contemplatin' , I could have been there and back." I pouted. Lisa turned back around in her seat and I , resigned to the fact that I would have to do without my yummy gummy worms, sank back into mine, staring at the back of Lisa's head. I wondered if that pitch, no-lights-no-windows-not-even-a-crack-for-you-to-breathe-through-black was her natural hair color. After a few seconds, I turned my attention to placing my book bag neatly in the vacant space beside me. It felt weird not having my purse. I watched as the rest of K.C's passeners loaded the bus, all wearing the same bored, drained expression. Did I have that look on my face when I stepped on the bus? I didn't doubt it.
When everybody was on, K.C. started the route. I knew the path by heart. Invariably, the middle school kids hopped on next. Along with them came the increase in volume and the smell of nervous, overheated bodies. I wondered if my hormones were that quirky when I was in middle school or if deoderant had just gone out of style these days. The strong smell dampened my mood; I had to go through this every day. At the time it looked like I wouldn't even have a car until my junior year in college! Lord, help me.
TO BE CONTINUED...