Nada
I got nothing. I really have nothing new and/or exciting to report. In the last few days I have done some pretty stellar things like: go to bed early; watch movies; do laundry and get my nose piercing caught on the towel yet again. A few minutes ago I googled the nutritional value of avocadoes and was a bit upset to find that I pretty much could have had a small chocolate bar for lunch, since it has roughly the same fat content. I know, I know, good fat and bad fat; the avocado kicks nutritional ass.
In my attempts to be a more friendly and well rounded human, I have made some progress in the bus driver department. I’m not sure why the fact that I never verbally acknowledge the beautific men and women that navigate me through Vancouver traffic on a near-daily basis wasn’t more of a concern to me until the last couple of months, but I have made a marked improvement. I now say hi and make direct eye contact. They always say hi back – sometimes even “good morning”. And it’s the same driver at 8am from Tuesday to Thursday; I wouldn’t have noticed that had I not made this radical attempt to come out of my shell just a little bit. Oh, and the driver of the 22 gave me a lift to Arbutus even though he wasn’t in service because he was taking the bus back to the service yard in Richmond. I had my own bus! How cool is that?
Which reminds me, a funny thing did happen to me today. Okay, maybe not funny. Let’s just say it occurred and leave it at that. As usual there was a mass exodus of transit riders on Robson and I had to get up to let the lady next to me out (no knee turn here, baby). Earlier I had noticed a rather attractive guy get on the bus so I thought hey, there’s a free seat next to me and I have to get out in another couple of stops so why not ask if he wants to sit. So I did. I said, “would you like a seat?”. As the words came out of my mouth I thought, huh, that as actually pretty easy. He smiled and declined so I sat down and someone else sat beside me. Later, he got off in front of me with a girl that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. I trailed behind them as I trundled down to Hastings and watched as they exchanged a pleasant kiss before parting ways at Pender. Awesome. No wonder he didn’t take the seat. The moral of my otherwise boring story is: I am getting a little bit better. With this kind of progress I expect that, within a month, when a guy smiles at me I will stave off the red flush that creeps up my neck, face and ears and is complimented by my furious shoe check. Instead, I will gape open-mouthed at him and then point a finger at myself to confirm that indeed he is smiling at me. And this will confirm for him that he clearly made a grievous error, and that the little blonde one is slightly demented. We’ll see where I end up a month or two after that…
In my attempts to be a more friendly and well rounded human, I have made some progress in the bus driver department. I’m not sure why the fact that I never verbally acknowledge the beautific men and women that navigate me through Vancouver traffic on a near-daily basis wasn’t more of a concern to me until the last couple of months, but I have made a marked improvement. I now say hi and make direct eye contact. They always say hi back – sometimes even “good morning”. And it’s the same driver at 8am from Tuesday to Thursday; I wouldn’t have noticed that had I not made this radical attempt to come out of my shell just a little bit. Oh, and the driver of the 22 gave me a lift to Arbutus even though he wasn’t in service because he was taking the bus back to the service yard in Richmond. I had my own bus! How cool is that?
Which reminds me, a funny thing did happen to me today. Okay, maybe not funny. Let’s just say it occurred and leave it at that. As usual there was a mass exodus of transit riders on Robson and I had to get up to let the lady next to me out (no knee turn here, baby). Earlier I had noticed a rather attractive guy get on the bus so I thought hey, there’s a free seat next to me and I have to get out in another couple of stops so why not ask if he wants to sit. So I did. I said, “would you like a seat?”. As the words came out of my mouth I thought, huh, that as actually pretty easy. He smiled and declined so I sat down and someone else sat beside me. Later, he got off in front of me with a girl that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. I trailed behind them as I trundled down to Hastings and watched as they exchanged a pleasant kiss before parting ways at Pender. Awesome. No wonder he didn’t take the seat. The moral of my otherwise boring story is: I am getting a little bit better. With this kind of progress I expect that, within a month, when a guy smiles at me I will stave off the red flush that creeps up my neck, face and ears and is complimented by my furious shoe check. Instead, I will gape open-mouthed at him and then point a finger at myself to confirm that indeed he is smiling at me. And this will confirm for him that he clearly made a grievous error, and that the little blonde one is slightly demented. We’ll see where I end up a month or two after that…
posted by Duder at 12:44 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home