The 10 was a few minutes late to Mic Mac Mall, where we both got on, sitting diagonally across from each other in those usually-awkward seats that face one another. The bus being delayed had made me late for work, but your face made my day all the brighter. You, in your knee-high boots, red lipstick, sapphire earrings, horseshoe necklace, black skirt and coat and green shirt with your short brown hair and striking green eyes an Target bag; me in my charcoal peacoat, jeans and sneakers. It may have looked like I was smiling as I enjoyed my music, but in truth the song didn’t matter: I only wanted to see a similar look crease your face. I wish I had the courage to talk to you as you looked like you’d seen some of the world and I’m sure you would’ve had a lot to say. Similarly, I wish I could have said or done something romantic, but my nerves failed me at the time. I regret not talking action, but the opportunity to spend the precious few moments with that I did with you before getting off on Spring Garden were lovely. I’ve never appreciated bridge traffic more. I’ll be around and, hopefully, I’ll find my grit and say something to you next time. —Belated Server of Old Folks
This article appears in Dec 19-25, 2013.