Monday, February 6, 2006

are you looking at me? I was riding the bus home today, sitting in a seat near the front. The seat next to me was available for a few stops after I got on, but a man eventually sat down next to me. I didn't really look at him at the time. He sat a little close, though, so I moved a bit towards the window. He moved closer, too. And began to fidget. His leather jacket squeaked on the vinyl seat every time he adjusted position. I was getting a weird vibe from him from the get-go. He seemed like a bit of an ass. He was giving off an ass vibe, really. (Even as I type that, I fear the Google searches that will result... ) Oh, well. I rode on, listening to the Ricky Gervais podcast on my iPod, caught up in my own head, idly watching buildings go by. Somewhere, around halfway home, I realized the man was staring at me. And when I say staring, I mean he was attempting to burn a hole through the side of my head with his gaze. I turned to look at him, smiled pleasantly. He looked away immediately. Eeek. I turned back to the window, and with near synchronicity, he turned to stare at me again. I waited a moment and then turned as quickly as I could to try and look him in the eye. And I caught him -- for a split second. He craned his neck in the other direction with such rapid movement that I thought he was going to give himself whiplash. I rolled my eyes and looked out at Stanley Park. It was beautiful in the waning light of day. Eventually, I managed to ignore him, and got back into the podcast. I love this podcast. If you haven't heard the podcast from RickyGervais.com, you should. Karl Pilkington makes me laugh so hard I feel a little ill. That, and I end up speaking in a vaguely English accent for hours after I tune in. Now, there came a point in the podcast where, despite how awkward this man was making me feel, that I could not help but smirk. Really, I wanted to laugh out loud, but I kept a bit of control. He noticed me smirking, obviously, since he was staring at the side of my head. At this point he spoke: "I'm not looking at you, I'm looking out the window." I pulled out my earbud, and with an innocent expression replied, "Sorry?" "You made a face. I was saying I wasn't looking at you." "I made a face?" "You made a face like you were laughing at me." "No... no. I was laughing at something on my iPod." "Oh. Okay." I smiled, popped the bud back in, and looked back out the window. As soon as he felt secure I was facing the other direction, he began staring at me again. Sheesh. I'd had it. I yanked out both ear buds, turned to look at him and said, "It's beautiful, huh?" He looked at me with wide eyes. "Wha - what?" "The park, today. In the sun." "Oh, sure. " "Hard not to stare out the window." "Out the window, yes." "Do you want the window seat? I'm just kind of staring into space." "No, that's fine. That's fine." He turned towards the aisle. We rode the rest of the way facing opposite directions until my stop came. I rang the bell and stood, waiting for him to move aside. He gave me just enough space that I could brush past, but his knees caught mine for a moment. I couldn't make it by without practically landing on his lap. Now I was getting irritated. I lunged forward towards the door, swinging my bag back onto my shoulder. He ducked, in order to avoid being hit in the face, and flinched back into the seat. "Excuse me! " He said this in such an offended tone that I almost snickered. "Enjoy the scenery, ok?" The last thing I heard as I headed for the door was his wheedling voice. "I was looking out the window!" Sometimes I hate the bus. 7:38:43 PM    well, yes, but...  []

© Copyright 2006 Meg Fowler. Last update: 3/4/06; 2:32:17 PM.