Monday kicked off with the misstep of forgetting my cell phone, so I missed the 08:45 bus by about 15 seconds. Instead, I caught the 09:05 with my bus-stop friend, Jen the social worker. We had to stand amidships at the back door. The row immediately behind the back door was taken by a homeless kid, in grubby clothes, with dirty nails, locs all ratted out, pale and skinny with a few teeth lost in a fight or to meth. I stood right in front of him and after one or two inhalations realized that I was taking in his pungent, gamey aromas. Ah, the city bus.
A moment later, I heard soft tootlings of a harmonica. Oh, here we go, I thought: he's gonna wail and hit us up for a contribution. He's probably not even very good. Just as that thought floated through my brain, he blew a short, intense, perfect phrase that could have come from Springsteen or even, my heavens, Dylan himself. I was so surprised that I turned around. His big, deep brown eyes met mine, and I smiled at him.
A young woman and a young man boarded. The young man was wearing a gray hoodie with a picture of the Pillsbury Doughboy and the words "got dough?" As the hoodie-guy walked the center aisle to the back door, Harmonica Kid said, "Dude, I'm loving your shirt." The hoodie guy smiled. Then Harmonica Kid said, "I've got one, too," and I, unable to resist, turned around again to see that he'd pulled up a grimy T-shirt from the collar up to show off the characters on the front -- Beavis & Butthead.
Sometimes, it's a good thing to forget the cell phone and take the later bus.
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