Chapter Two:
"The Love Connection"
And with that thought,
the doors fly open, and accompanied by the wind, a young man, perhaps a sophomore, stepsaboard finding a seat next to a girl who appears to be tapping lightly on her iPod touch. She brushes a strand of dark brown hair away from her face revealing piercing blue eyes intensified by a stroke of black eyeliner above and below her eyelids. Dressed in a black fleece and a pair of dark, skinny jeans and black ballet flats, she seems relaxed and comfortable aboard the bus despite the chilly, wet weather visible just through the window behind her. It becomes apparent within only a few moments that the boy wishes to catch her attention; he makes several awkward movements as if to get her attention raising his hand slightly only to bring it back to his side abruptly. Caught off guard by his movements, she looks up as he sweeps his hair back dramatically. She flutters her eyelashes, perhaps on purpose or simply by coincidence. Nonetheless, he takes advantage of this fleeting opportunity and moves closer. Scooting towards her in the most “casual” way possible, and his water soaked, white t-shirt hanging loosely from his body smelling slightly of wet dog, he places his arm ever so suavely behind the seat mere inches from where she sits, and finally stutters into speech. “Do, do, I know you from somewhere?” he asks, tilting his head upward to make eye contact. Only just realizing that he has spoken to her, she shrugs her shoulders upward removing her hot pink headphones. Winding the headphone cords up around her iPod, he continues on bravely. “Well, either way, I think I’ve seen you around.” She laughs in a girlish manner revealing sparkling white teeth beneath high, rosy cheekbones. He continues peppering her questions revealing both his nervousness and excitement. He appears to find the courage to ask for her number, and without answering, she pulls her cross body bag from around her shoulder, and digging with in the tie dyed bag she reveals a blue ink pen and a notebook. Carelessly ripping out a page, she jots down her number, and pulls the cord to get off. She slides gracefully from her seat leaving the boy thunderstruck by his luck; he looks down at the number as if not really seeing it, and as if truly from a fairy tale, the sun peeks ever slightly out from behind the rainy clouds.
I laugh to myself as he revels in his luck wondering slightly how often he has made such advances on other girls and how often they actually worked. Nonetheless, it has worked for him today, and I gaze to my left, just behind me sitting next to the window is a girl talking amicably on her cell phone, perhaps a graduate student, she appears to be discussing her upcoming wedding with her mother. Her eyes seem to sparkle with delight over the details of the cake even more so when the topic turns to a dress fitting the following week. A fire, a passion, a zealousness rises from within her heart and screams from the patches of red just appearing below her cheekbones down to the irreplaceably smile that extends from ear to ear. She switches her phone to the other side, revealing a dazzling princess cut diamond engagement ring. Dressed plainly in jeans and a maroon Virginia Tech t-shirt, she puts her mother on hold for a moment to answer a text message and then to pull the cord positioned to her left, once again returning to her phone call, she sends her love to everyone in the family and eventually hangs up. With the end of their conversation, my gaze wanders to a young child and her mother.
The picture of innocence sits before me: a girl no older than four, giggles lightly and finally wiggling free from her mother’s grip, she reaches her arm out in earnest to towards her pink balloon as her short pigtails swing slightly from side to side. Outstretched legs barely making their way to the end of the seat squirm uncomfortably under the formality of sitting down. Although quite young, you can immediately feel her energy and jest for life. Dressed completely in pink from the ribbons tired ever so delicately in her hair, to the furry coat fastened tightly around her chest, to the Hello Kitty purse sitting neatly in her lap, all the way down to the Keds tied on the wrong feet. As she squeals with delight, her mother chides her daughter for such playfulness and from what I can detect, the mother seems to scold her daughter through a very slight, yet detectable smile while still placing her index finger over her mouth in the universal sign of “be quiet”. Craning my neck behind me, I peer out the window, and I am just able to make out the Panara located next to the emporium through a steady flow of rain. Checking to make sure my umbrella is now clasped tightly in hand, I prepare myself mentally for the weather outside, and as the bus screeching to a stop, I pick up my book bag slinging it carelessly over my shoulder and make my way towards the exit and on towards my awaiting math exam.
I am struck by how today's observations dealt with romance, family, and love. It's enveloping perfume engulfed the bus with warmth; wafting its scent and power across the the entire bus amidst a kindling of romance of an exciting new love, tying the knot with an old, and the bond of mother and daughter. Even within these first few observations, I begin to already make one connection. We all rely on the bus. We rely on it to be on time, to be at the right place and as the rain pours down, we still expect the bus to pick us up. And as a by product of this dependence, an entire community as some point or another is forced together aboard the bus witnessing and observing aspects of their everyday life. It is an interesting observation, and I wonder what a new day will bring; laughing to myself, I hope it is at least sunny weather.
I laugh to myself as he revels in his luck wondering slightly how often he has made such advances on other girls and how often they actually worked. Nonetheless, it has worked for him today, and I gaze to my left, just behind me sitting next to the window is a girl talking amicably on her cell phone, perhaps a graduate student, she appears to be discussing her upcoming wedding with her mother. Her eyes seem to sparkle with delight over the details of the cake even more so when the topic turns to a dress fitting the following week. A fire, a passion, a zealousness rises from within her heart and screams from the patches of red just appearing below her cheekbones down to the irreplaceably smile that extends from ear to ear. She switches her phone to the other side, revealing a dazzling princess cut diamond engagement ring. Dressed plainly in jeans and a maroon Virginia Tech t-shirt, she puts her mother on hold for a moment to answer a text message and then to pull the cord positioned to her left, once again returning to her phone call, she sends her love to everyone in the family and eventually hangs up. With the end of their conversation, my gaze wanders to a young child and her mother.
The picture of innocence sits before me: a girl no older than four, giggles lightly and finally wiggling free from her mother’s grip, she reaches her arm out in earnest to towards her pink balloon as her short pigtails swing slightly from side to side. Outstretched legs barely making their way to the end of the seat squirm uncomfortably under the formality of sitting down. Although quite young, you can immediately feel her energy and jest for life. Dressed completely in pink from the ribbons tired ever so delicately in her hair, to the furry coat fastened tightly around her chest, to the Hello Kitty purse sitting neatly in her lap, all the way down to the Keds tied on the wrong feet. As she squeals with delight, her mother chides her daughter for such playfulness and from what I can detect, the mother seems to scold her daughter through a very slight, yet detectable smile while still placing her index finger over her mouth in the universal sign of “be quiet”. Craning my neck behind me, I peer out the window, and I am just able to make out the Panara located next to the emporium through a steady flow of rain. Checking to make sure my umbrella is now clasped tightly in hand, I prepare myself mentally for the weather outside, and as the bus screeching to a stop, I pick up my book bag slinging it carelessly over my shoulder and make my way towards the exit and on towards my awaiting math exam.
I am struck by how today's observations dealt with romance, family, and love. It's enveloping perfume engulfed the bus with warmth; wafting its scent and power across the the entire bus amidst a kindling of romance of an exciting new love, tying the knot with an old, and the bond of mother and daughter. Even within these first few observations, I begin to already make one connection. We all rely on the bus. We rely on it to be on time, to be at the right place and as the rain pours down, we still expect the bus to pick us up. And as a by product of this dependence, an entire community as some point or another is forced together aboard the bus witnessing and observing aspects of their everyday life. It is an interesting observation, and I wonder what a new day will bring; laughing to myself, I hope it is at least sunny weather.
