novapsyche (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
novapsyche) wrote2004-01-31 08:33 pm
novapsyche) wrote2004-01-31 08:33 pm
*shy smile*
So Thursday, I get off at my 1st transfer point (the Arborland bus stop). It's rather cold--7 degrees, if I remember correctly. I step off and watch as the #7 to Ann Arbor pulls up.
Michael's driving it! He waves at me and smiles. I do the same. I gather my stuff and jog up to his bus.
"Hey!" I say. We exchange pleasantries.
"I thought I'd never see you again," I say. He replies, "No, I'll definitely be around." (Or so my mind now recalls. It was something to that effect.)
I say I have to jump off because the #4 doesn't wait (and it doesn't). As I wait some yards away in one of the shelters (if you could call it that in 7-degree temperatures), I consider writing my number on the back of one of the business cards in my purse. When I finally commit to doing this, the #4 pulls up.
Life is fun. Fickle, but fun.
Michael's driving it! He waves at me and smiles. I do the same. I gather my stuff and jog up to his bus.
"Hey!" I say. We exchange pleasantries.
"I thought I'd never see you again," I say. He replies, "No, I'll definitely be around." (Or so my mind now recalls. It was something to that effect.)
I say I have to jump off because the #4 doesn't wait (and it doesn't). As I wait some yards away in one of the shelters (if you could call it that in 7-degree temperatures), I consider writing my number on the back of one of the business cards in my purse. When I finally commit to doing this, the #4 pulls up.
Life is fun. Fickle, but fun.