Term finals week. You all know the drill : gotta do my homework, gotta do it. So I have to protect my sleep deprived neurons from interferences so I can focus on the d*** (due?) projects.
In the bus I turn the sound on my Ipod to the max . Usually I let myself be drawn in the chatter of bus riders (and so I found out that from all deserts one can serve in a cafe or restaurant; the sinfully sweet, extremly rich fudge has one of the best profit margins). But not during my term finals week.
My Ipod to the max - the song is "Deshabiliez-moi". The guy next to me , Arabian and french speaking to my best guess, gazes with a look of wonder in his eyes matched by a movement of sudden interest. I close my eyes and smile for I know what follows. Next stop: California , going down in the swirling rhythms of a cell block tango. And when she says "So I took the shotgun off the wall and fired two warning shots... into his head." I smile. Believe you me, there is a difference between a puzzled expression and one of mere wonderment. So by the time the song reaches the conclusion of Al Lipshitz' faith, an unexpected result of artistic differences, the bus guy moves a few seats away. Too bad. If he had stayed he would have figured out how one can solve problems in spite of atmospheric disturbances.
2 comments:
Often, real stories are the best ones, aren't they? I like the description of the bus guy:
"The guy next to me , Arabian and french speaking to my best guess, gazes with a look of wonder in his eyes matched by a movement of sudden interest."
Too bad he didn't stay for the resolution:) I enjoyed checking out your links, too.
It was no loss , really...
I decided that the man that's going to get my love is the one that can also get my quirky sense of humor...
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