Trotting over to the bus stop I performed a quick scan, assessing the number of riders waiting for the bus. If there was a crowd, it decreased the likelihood that I’d have much of a wait until the next one pulled in. Fortunately, there appeared to be a nice sized group gathering around a signpost that read: Route A, in bold black letters.
I sat down and transferred my backpack to my lap. I stared down at the wooden slats beneath me. They consisted of splintered pieces of wood, spray painted symbols, profanity and carvings of initials. Still engrossed, I failed to notice the bus’s arrival until a crowd formed in front of me. Like herded sheep, we all fell neatly in line and filed onto the bus.
Luckily my apartment was only a ten minute ride away. I looked forward to the placidness of the afternoon. Walking toward my building I inhaled the air. It held the fragrant scent of moist earth and made me feel light headed and dizzy.
The air had turned a bit chillier since I’d been waiting at the bus stop. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and decided to walk the trail behind my building. I took in the colors of the changing foliage, the scent of fresh rain, and the rippling of the creek flowing past.
Suddenly the still was abruptly broken. I could hear light footsteps and faint breathing, like that of a jogger, coming round the other side of the brush.
“Denise! Denise!” Mia panted, trying to catch her breath and talk all at once.
Mia was my neighbor from across the hall. While seemingly pleasant, she somehow had a way of taxing my sensibilities at times. Seeing as Mia doesn’t jog, I figured she must have spotted me as I’d walked behind the building and onto the trail. I could tell she was eagerly awaiting an invitation to update me on the goings on in her life.
So, being the good sport that I am, I extended the invitation. “Hey, how you doin’?” Without further ado, she immediately delved into the particulars of her newest romance gone awry.
“You remember Josh, right?” She began gesturing excitedly. “You know the really cute dj from the club?”
Yeah, I remembered Josh. Six years her junior, immature for his age, still living with his mother and allegedly looking for a job.
“Sure.” I plodded on, not missing a step and trying not to pass judgment.
“Well he and I have this great chemistry! It’s just that he doesn’t seem too serious about finding a job.” She shook her head with genuine disdain. “He just parties way too much!”
“Hmm.” I tried to play the part of the impartial listener, though her confession does lend some clarity on the matter of his job search.
Now I could present Mia with the obvious. I might point out that she met Josh at a club. He’s a dj who spins at clubs and his interest in frequenting the clubs is one that likely predated and supersedes his interest in her.
“Well you know how younger guys can be hon. Maybe you should look for someone a bit older.”
Mia continued to talk as if she didn’t hear me.
She went on to explain at great length how exactly she planned to get Josh to come around.
“Uh-huh,” I muttered while nodding my head.
The heady high I’d felt moments earlier suddenly began to melt away as we passed through the park and up toward the golf range. I looked ahead of me and tried to focus on Mia’s stories, providing commentary at appropriate moments. Yet for some reason, I just couldn’t manage to fully engage.
So I let out a quiet sigh, closed my eyes and reluctantly surrendered to the day.
Thoughtfully I decided that despite Mia’s chronically flawed perception of these romances, her desire to hold onto them wasn’t completely lost on me. In fact, I couldn’t rightly claim to have used any better judgment while trying to scotch tape my relationship with Mario. Some relationships just weren’t meant to be salvaged.
