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Sic Transit Gloria Mundi, revisited
May. 20th, 2008 07:02 pmThere's something about waiting for a bus on a Monday evening in downtown Seattle after SMC rehearsal that is very different from any other part of my bus commutes.
This particular Monday, it was a fairly thin, Hispanic-looking guy in a blue windbreaker and a white T-shirt, standing at the bus schedule board and using it to steady himself as he was a bit tipsy. He kept reaching up under the front of his T-shirt and windbreaker to scratch himself, or maybe play with his nipples, finally just pulling the shirt and jacket up and exposing his furry chest and stomach to all and sundry. Just like the cub with the flip-flops last week, I found this distracting -- at once mildly erotic and revolting. Eventually he made his way to a nearby bench and sat down.
The actual ride back was fairly uneventful (apart from a few seconds of the Rodeo Bus trying to buck the passengers off in the middle of I-5) until my on-call pager went off and I joined one of those interminable phone conferences that seem to pop up at the drop of the proverbial hat when I'm on-call. Nine times out of ten, the problem is with the application, the database or the network, and not something the system admins can fix. By the time I got home it was clear this was going to be one of those calls so I dropped it. I had too much other work to do anyway.
This particular Monday, it was a fairly thin, Hispanic-looking guy in a blue windbreaker and a white T-shirt, standing at the bus schedule board and using it to steady himself as he was a bit tipsy. He kept reaching up under the front of his T-shirt and windbreaker to scratch himself, or maybe play with his nipples, finally just pulling the shirt and jacket up and exposing his furry chest and stomach to all and sundry. Just like the cub with the flip-flops last week, I found this distracting -- at once mildly erotic and revolting. Eventually he made his way to a nearby bench and sat down.
The actual ride back was fairly uneventful (apart from a few seconds of the Rodeo Bus trying to buck the passengers off in the middle of I-5) until my on-call pager went off and I joined one of those interminable phone conferences that seem to pop up at the drop of the proverbial hat when I'm on-call. Nine times out of ten, the problem is with the application, the database or the network, and not something the system admins can fix. By the time I got home it was clear this was going to be one of those calls so I dropped it. I had too much other work to do anyway.
