I have a love/hate relationship with the Bus in Denver. I love getting to work; I hate taking the bus. Except for the symphony of loonies, hard-luck cases, drunks and cute babies that always enhance, if not brighten, my day.
So last week, I'm taking the bus downtown for rehearsal. I have a very tried and true routine for waiting for the bus. Package of powdered doughnuts, can of Monster energy, the funnies. By the time I get on the bus I am usually going back through and reading all the comics that I can't stand, but can't resist reading. Maybe out of some fear that the one day "Family Circus" is actually relevant or moving will be the day I skip it. Crazy. I know.
So on this day, a crisp fall morning; and pretty sure the day after a huge Bronco win, I sit down fully prepared to follow my plan. As I situate myself on the first of the forward-facing seats, I notice this lady sitting to my left. She's middle aged, fairly well groomed, wearing a big baggy leather duster and cradling an over stuffed with-I-don't-know-what trash bag and keeping her eye on two full-sized bungee-cord-wrapped suit cases. Not totally normal, but not enough to take my mind off "Get Fuzzy".
I don't really know how to tell the rest of the story. Only to express the growing shock and amazement as I began to hear and understand her mumblings then shouts. There is no way to make sense of the conversations she was having with no one. But sitting there, not finishing my comics, I knew the things I heard were meant to be shared.
a sampling.
"John McCain is in a prison in London, paid to torture and kill him" said wryly, ironically.
"How many babies are you gonna infect, Mary?" shouted to an empty seat.
"I HAVE A TELEPHONE IN MY TEETH, LIKE A BLUE TOOTH, GET OVER IT! ...and stop listening to my conversations" a retort to a fellow bus riders request to quiet down.
This was the theme of the 45 minute bus ride from Broomfield to Lakewood, where I left my muse, still riding the bus. I wonder what was in those suitcases.
