Commuting to and from work on the bus I’m often surprised and puzzled and, well yes, feel a tiny bit left out.\u00a0 It’s like I’m always the last person people sit next to on the bus and I keep wondering why.\u00a0 Do I look funny?\u00a0 Scary?\u00a0 Weird?\u00a0 Maybe\u00a0something is\u00a0hanging from my nose or perhaps I drool and don’t realize it because\u00a0I lack self-awareness.\u00a0 Maybe it’s my breath?\u00a0\u00a0I really don’t know\u00a0what keeps people from taking the empty place next to me until there’s really no where else to sit.\u00a0 Perhaps I talk to myself.<\/p>\n
Me:\u00a0 No!\u00a0 It can’t be that.
\nMe:\u00a0 Well, yes it could.\u00a0 People are a little unnerved by seeing other people’s lips moving, making words, but there’s no one\u00a0else around\u00a0but the lip mover.
\nMe:\u00a0 Really, I don’t think I do that.\u00a0\u00a0Not\u00a0much, at least.
\nMe:\u00a0 Well maybe you do.\u00a0 What about your lack of self-awareness I’ve been hearing discussed so much these days?
\nMe:\u00a0 You have a point.
\nMe:\u00a0 Yes I do.
\nMe:\u00a0 Okay then.
\nMe: Okay.
\nMe:\u00a0 Nice talking
\nMe:\u00a0 Let’s chat again, soon.
\nMe:\u00a0 Good idea.<\/p>\n
Do I talk to myself?\u00a0 No, wait, I just asked that.\u00a0 Maybe people are nervous sitting next to people who repeat themselves.\u00a0 <\/p>\n
A few weeks ago some poor gent sat next to me.\u00a0 I’m telling you, he stood for a second or two too long to be subtle about it, looking, searching in vain for somewhere else to sit besides\u00a0next to\u00a0me.\u00a0 “There’s a place,” I heard him think, excitedly.\u00a0\u00a0Then: “No, it’s just a small person sitting there, but wait, how about, no, that’s filled too.\u00a0 Sigh.\u00a0 O.K., I guess I’m going to have to sit next to this bozo.\u00a0\u00a0Seems like I’m\u00a0always stuck next to\u00a0some clown on the bus.”\u00a0 I wouldn’t have thought too much about his behavior except that at a stop he started to get up, misjudging the intent of a person (that lady is\u00a0getting off the bus now!) sitting a row or two forward, thinking that a seat would be freed, but it wasn’t.\u00a0 After half standing then realizing his mistake,\u00a0he resignedly sat back down.<\/p>\n
Part of me would like to believe it’s my aura, my noble carriage, my imposing gravitas, a guru-esque sort of semi-detached, air of wisdom-ish kind of appearance that hangs\u00a0on me, impressively, like Spanish Moss from a great oak tree.\u00a0\u00a0Like people worry I’ll\u00a0turn to them and say something like,\u00a0“You may sit next to me my child.\u00a0 Do not fear.\u00a0 I will not engage thee in a discussion of ultimate things unless thou wishest it.”<\/p>\n
Ummm, no.\u00a0 I don’t think that’s it, either.<\/p>\n
A while back I ran across\u00a0an\u00a0interesting article<\/a> by a person who talked about being the last person people sat next to on the train.\u00a0 The author, a\u00a0middle-aged black male, assumed\u00a0none of the mostly white passengers sat next to him for racial reasons.\u00a0 A few days later, the paper published letters to the editor<\/a> in response to the article.\u00a0 I especially appreciate the one from the self-described older white lady who is a “bit plump”\u00a0as well as the one that mentions a study showing that people are drawn to other people who are like them.<\/p>\n Whatever the reason, I’ve decided not to worry about it much.\u00a0 I know I don’t look or smell too bad, plus the only time (mostly!) I move my lips as if talking to myself is when I’m memorizing poetry (and I stop moving them as soon as I realize I am).\u00a0 And frankly, I enjoy the extra space, the freedom to shift in the seat a bit or rummage in my satchel, or jot something in my journal.<\/p>\n Post Script<\/p>\n I was almost ready to click “Publish” and send this essay to the blog when it happened.\u00a0 The other morning on the bus, with half a dozen or more seats still vacant, someone sat next to me!\u00a0 Since I’ve already raised the issue of race, person-type, and like attracting like, I’ll say that the person who, by her own choice, sat next to me, was both a woman and black, neither my gender nor my race.\u00a0 I practically laughed out loud, not only because the whole point of this essay had been challenged, but also because, in spite of what I said in the last paragraph, above, it felt kinda nice for another person to sit next to me when she didn’t have to. \u00a0 Maybe I’m not quite that weird after all.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Commuting to and from work on the bus I’m often surprised and puzzled and, well yes, feel a tiny bit left out.\u00a0 It’s like I’m always the last person people sit next to on the bus and I keep wondering … Continue reading