The Bus Stop Diaries.

The sun has finally revealed its rays onto the city of Chicago. It’s warming up (and when I say warming up I mean it’s 37 degrees), the birds are chirping, and people are actually smiling. I’m sporting my spring jacket, naked appendages (no hat, gloves, or socks), and moccasins.

As I head out of the elevators the meek miniature greyhound emerges from the front room. He eerily stares at me with his large black eyes, his body so frail and soft he’s ghost-like. Those huge eyes floating above his soft gray frame make him appear even more miniature than he is.

Meandering outside and into the sun, I can’t believe that a ten-degree rise in temperature can warm things up so much. I stroll on over to the #29 bus stop and plant myself on the bench. The sun has never felt better. A man, donning a ever so lovely newsboy hat joins me with a “Hi, how’s it going?” I find myself somewhat startled, I don’t remember the last time anyone has said hello to me while waiting for a bus. It’s normally a slightly awkward experience, standing in such close proximity to other human beings and not saying anything. It’s like standing in an elevator. If anyone were to say anything at all it would be a crime. Sometimes I want to scream, “Hello! How are you?......Why are you giving me that strange look for smiling at you? I’m a human, you’re a human, and we are both standing on the same sidewalk, at the same moment in time, how awesome is that?!”

His saying hello was refreshing.

It’s amazing what you’ll see when you’re awaiting the arrival of the #29 bus.

A blue Cavalier is stopped at the light. The smoke of a cigarette snakes its way outside, through the crack of his window. As the light turns green, this said Cavalier begins to rolls past the white line. Suddenly it stops. The driver steps out of his car, strolls to the back and picks up the lit cigarette, placing it back into his mouth he gets back into the car and drives away.

…..

Newsboy-cap man and I exchange glances. Did that man honestly stop in the middle of a green light to go back and pick up his smoldering cigarette that lay on the frigid pavement of State street!?

Yes, yes he did.

So begins, the bus stop diaries. It’s silly, I know, but there are just some things that happen while you’re waiting for the bus that simply need to be recorded.