PREVIOUSLY: On The Bus, Part 1-----
Two months into this contract consulting gig, I was able to convince the powers-that-be that I can support the client from their downtown Chicago location instead of out in Naperville. I told them that all that clean, fresh air is wreaking havoc with my complexion. They might as well use water for my coffee instead of a double vodka. My successful lobbying meant that I am now able to go back to using the bus to get to work. I love the bus. Nothing is more annoying to me than having to drive to work, specially when the only thing you can do is sit in traffic and talk back to the radio, who doesn't listen to what you say, like that ex-boyfriend who's idea of monogamy was to have a membership at one gay bathhouse at a time.
While on the bus this past week, I was able to read "Saul and Patsy", a wonderful book given to me by Annie, one of my closest friends. I wish I could share this book with you. It touched me deeply, like a proctologist. But alas, I can’t. So you have to buy it from Amazon through the link provided and earn me a kickback. Then I will know you are my friends, for you are providing for my addiction to male/female oil wrestling porn. I was thinking about setting up a PayPal donation button, but I figured that was too subtle. My mom always said "Keep hitting them with a shovel until they're dead, and then bury them with it." My mom's a card.
The book you read is like the "tell" in a card game. It tells a lot about your personality, your station in life, your inadequacies in bed. You can bluff your way with an Armani suit or a Tag-Hauer watch, but when the pants are down, your deuce is still a deuce.
Here’s a selection of books that I may have been spotted reading on the bus:
"The Vampire Lestat" by Anne Rice
The New Yorker magazine
"About A Boy" by Nick Hornby
"Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" by JK Rowling
"The Hours" by Michael Cunningham
This is what it says about me:
"The Vampire Lestat" – gay. The New Yorker and "About A Boy" – elitist snob, good record collection, possibly with a bad British accent, gay. "Harry Potter" – creative, whimsical, quite possibly gay. "The Hours" – a complete flamer.
Of course, some people will seek to use this knowledge to their advantage by prominently displaying a copy of The Wall Street Journal or carrying around a worn copy of "The Iliad" they found on a windowsill, formerly used to prop up an airconditioner. I have been known to oh-so-casually put a copy of Field and Stream magazine on my lap to project a more rugged and outdoorsy nature--I like fishing for trouser trout.
The bus is a wonderful way to meet potential mates. You can surreptitiously study a person, their personality and habits. The lurching movements of the bus and the close quarters make it easy to strike up a conversation. You can even feign surprise and say that you have the same stop and offer to buy coffee. My friend Fernando was able to meet several women this way until he was arrested for swindling them from their Social Security checks.
Such is the Romance of the Bus. It is the gondola that ferries us from our homes to our dismal, mind-numbing places of work, spewing thick, black smoke along the way. Idly, I wondered what kind of freak I will sit next to today. I pull out my wallet and pay the fare...
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