Just an interesting story I remembered,
I was sitting at the bus terminal on the way home when the bus finally came. So I get on but I like to let people go in front of me, and when I got in all the seats were full except one next to this high-20-or-low-30s-year-old black woman, typical everyones afraid of sitting next to women. So, I take a seat. As the bus starts turning out it makes a sharp one and i get "eased into her". Now's the time to mention I had no intention of talking to her or really sexual interest in her. Anyway, I'm a big guy, but I've been told I have a gorgeous face, and so for about 5 minutes out of the station i'm sitting there and my arm is rubbing against hers. She's reading a book and moves her arm to readjust the book. Of course I was feeling this the whole time, so I noticed and looked over. The page number caught my eye, 74. So did the text, it was pretty damn big. Anyway, the bus gets to this huge turn and i bump right up next to her, this whole time not looking at her because past beliefs tell me that women must be enjoying it. After this turn, something's different, I'm hitting into the side of her body often. Ten minutes after, about 35 minutes into this from the bus stop, I get a call from my mom, chatchatchat then I say I love her, because I do and I take care to express that as much as possible. Right after this out of the corner of my eye I see her pull her purse away a little. Then the banging against her starts again. About 25 minutes later, more than an hour from when we left the terminal, constant brushing again all throughout, I notice her getting up. I figure, okay, clearly this is her stop. She takes about a minute to get to a point where I'm thinking "the next stop is hers, she's just waiting to pull the thing," to where she's actually about to get off. But something's not right here. She's got that book in her hand, "is the planning on walking around reading?" I'm asking myself. So I glance over at the book, still page 74? What the? It's been an hour.. I didn't feel like standing so I grab the bar in front of me and swing to the next seat where an old man was sitting, and after about 30 seconds I look back to see what's going on. She's sitting there leering at me with stone cold eyes, and as soon as I look over she gets up and walks past me. I turn back and sit where she was sitting, the window seat. So a few stops down my eyes wander from out the window to back at what's going on in the bus. On the left side, not 10 feet from me, is the woman, reading her book. Of course the same thing that's going through your mind went through mine, what the ****? A bit later on my stop comes, and I decide to go an extra 15 feet to confirm a hunch I had. I slowly walked by her and noticed the page number of the book she was still reading, 85. I walk off the bus and it hits me, despite the dirty looks, purse pulling, and everything else, my sitting there brushing against here when the bus took a turn or jumped up had kept her either 100% distracted, or 100% annoyed. For my ego, I choose to believe the former.
Take from this story what you will, and I'd love to hear your input.
I was sitting at the bus terminal on the way home when the bus finally came. So I get on but I like to let people go in front of me, and when I got in all the seats were full except one next to this high-20-or-low-30s-year-old black woman, typical everyones afraid of sitting next to women. So, I take a seat. As the bus starts turning out it makes a sharp one and i get "eased into her". Now's the time to mention I had no intention of talking to her or really sexual interest in her. Anyway, I'm a big guy, but I've been told I have a gorgeous face, and so for about 5 minutes out of the station i'm sitting there and my arm is rubbing against hers. She's reading a book and moves her arm to readjust the book. Of course I was feeling this the whole time, so I noticed and looked over. The page number caught my eye, 74. So did the text, it was pretty damn big. Anyway, the bus gets to this huge turn and i bump right up next to her, this whole time not looking at her because past beliefs tell me that women must be enjoying it. After this turn, something's different, I'm hitting into the side of her body often. Ten minutes after, about 35 minutes into this from the bus stop, I get a call from my mom, chatchatchat then I say I love her, because I do and I take care to express that as much as possible. Right after this out of the corner of my eye I see her pull her purse away a little. Then the banging against her starts again. About 25 minutes later, more than an hour from when we left the terminal, constant brushing again all throughout, I notice her getting up. I figure, okay, clearly this is her stop. She takes about a minute to get to a point where I'm thinking "the next stop is hers, she's just waiting to pull the thing," to where she's actually about to get off. But something's not right here. She's got that book in her hand, "is the planning on walking around reading?" I'm asking myself. So I glance over at the book, still page 74? What the? It's been an hour.. I didn't feel like standing so I grab the bar in front of me and swing to the next seat where an old man was sitting, and after about 30 seconds I look back to see what's going on. She's sitting there leering at me with stone cold eyes, and as soon as I look over she gets up and walks past me. I turn back and sit where she was sitting, the window seat. So a few stops down my eyes wander from out the window to back at what's going on in the bus. On the left side, not 10 feet from me, is the woman, reading her book. Of course the same thing that's going through your mind went through mine, what the ****? A bit later on my stop comes, and I decide to go an extra 15 feet to confirm a hunch I had. I slowly walked by her and noticed the page number of the book she was still reading, 85. I walk off the bus and it hits me, despite the dirty looks, purse pulling, and everything else, my sitting there brushing against here when the bus took a turn or jumped up had kept her either 100% distracted, or 100% annoyed. For my ego, I choose to believe the former.
Take from this story what you will, and I'd love to hear your input.
