sat next to me with her Americas history book full of pink highlighter. somehow we start talking. some busses are noisy, most are dead quiet. i like the noisy ones. the guy in the back of the bus had nu-metal blaring out of his headphones and the whole bus could hear it. i think it was Incubus. so terrible.
as she talked she wouldnt give me any eye contact, which was nice, cuz i was checking out her mexican makeup job, which was complex, and her wet-look hair, which ive always liked. she traced the letters on the cover of her book and drew flowers around the borders of the picture.
the whole time i kept thinking, what is the deal with teenagers. cant they see my receeding hairline? dont they know that i am not at all interested in the whole Lolita thing? only reason i talk about web cam girls is cuz i like design – cuz i cant do it!
anyway, this girl has no fear about asking questions.
she asks: are you married?
i say: no
she: any kids?
i say: not technically
she: do you go on a lot of dates?
i say: i have no car
me: so if the boy doesnt drive, it’s not a date.
she: so what do you call it if the female drives?
me: i don’t know what to call it, but i don’t call it a date.
she seemed to be disappointed in my answers.
fortunately we had arrived at my stop.
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