Repost courtesy of Kate, the original author:
March 23rd, 2006 05:05 pm
Today while I was waiting for the bus, I noticed a girl walking down the other side of the street. She turned out to be one of the most fascinating people I’ve observed in a long time, and strangely enough, it wasn’t about her clothes. Well, I admit that her bright red silk camisole was what first drew my eye as she walked south on 3rd Ave towards University, but her attitude quickly overcame her clothes. She crossed University and came strutting up to my busstop, and leaned against the bus schedule post. When she walked, she seemed to launch herself forward without any effort, as if she was floating. She had her ipod nano on, and she was mouthing the words along with her song, shaking her head and shaking her skinny hips a bit, completely unconscious of the world around her, completely confident in herself.
She stood there at the stop, wearing her black slacks and suit jacket, with pantyhose and black pointy-toed slingback heels, looking eighteen years old but oh-so mature. I can’t really describe why I couldn’t stop staring. Perhaps it was the dusting of freckles on her nose, or the long wavy dark hair she had up in a ponytail that clearly hadn’t been touched up since the morning. I think it might just have been how happy she looked.
My bus came then, and she got on it as well, and sat kitty-corner from me, confidently singing along silently to her obviously upbeat song. She pulled out the Stranger, and started reading the classifieds. Every now and then she’d make a funny noise and curl her lip, or laugh out loud quietly and smile at something she’d read. She didn’t notice that fact that we had a manic bus driver; she just slid around on her seat without seeming to be affected by the mad swerving and braking that had the rest of us holding on tight.
I stared shamelessly all the way to 75th and 35th, where I got off to drop off an envelope in the mailbox and then walk home. She sat reading the Stranger, still singing along to her song as the bus lurched up 35th and I stood on the corner, watching her disappear.