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Friday, October 4, 2013

Bus Stop: 24th and Nicollet; or Turns Out, I Look Pretty Suspicious


Sometimes, nothing happens.  And sometimes, it seems that everything happens at once.  For the next several Fridays, I’m going to be posting on my recent time at a bus stop in Minneapolis.  Having missed one bus by mere minutes – there it goes! – I stood and waited for almost 30 minutes for the next one.

Come stand next to me, won’t you, and we’ll wait together. 

I’d gone to George’s directly after work, part of one of those “I need to see you” aspects of a true friendship; and now, the light about 30 minutes from failing, I am standing on the corner, ready to go home.

I take a good look around. 

This is certainly a savory little area, I think.

A blend of small, home-y restaurants, bars with four-hour Happy Hours, people shouting into cell phones, there are taxis and buses and dog walkers and children. 

It is not until around 6:00 that the demographics begin to change. 

Dressed in an olive-colored pencil skirt, an amethyst shirt, cream fitted jacket and black heels, I do not stand out downtown, but with the traffic beginning to thin on this Tuesday afternoon, I am beginning to stand out at the bus stop in front of the McDonald’s.

A man in a Scarface jacket, pants belted around his knees waddles past me.  He is slender, young, his hair plaited into exuberant braids, a Medusa in the Hood look that not everyone can carry off.  He pulls fries out of what seems to be an endless bag of fries.

I lick my lips.

My visit to George’s had not included dinner. 

I watch his hand dip into the McDonald’s bag.  I watch enviously.

I consider asking for a fry.

I remember that I have a bit of string cheese in my lunch bag.

It’s amazing how often I have string cheese in my lunch bag.

I set my purse down on the bus stop bench, start digging for the cheese.  Out of the corner of my eye, Braid-y backs away from me.

Hmm.  Plastic bag, big Tupperware, little Tupperware, stray dollar bill, the packet of vitamins I had forgotten to take – there it is!

Triumphant, I pull the cheese out of the bag.

I look up to find the young man with the braids staring at me, a cluster of fries in his hand, forgotten.

What had he thought I was digging for?

I grin sheepishly at him, hold the cheese up.  “String cheese,” I say. 

Smiling, the man with the fries shakes his head, wanders to the other end of the bus stop.

There’s some weird people waitin’ for the bus.  

29 comments:

Buttons said...

Oh fry man and cheese string girl had a moment I love it:) B

Lin said...

Weirdo. You, I mean. ;)

vanilla said...

Yep, at least two.

Pearl said...

I figure at any given moment I may be the weird one. :-)

Daisy said...

I wonder if he went home and wrote on his blog about the lady at the bus stop who scared him by pulling a string cheese on him. :D Happy weekend to you, Pearl!

Delores said...

Given the right conditions.....

Pearl said...

Daisy, HA! Good point. :-)

jenny_o said...

If that was fries in your bag, no telling how this story might have ended.

joeh said...

Good one Daisy!

Shelly said...

Give me string cheese and I can conquer the world.

Ray Denzel said...

is that string cheese in your purse or are you just happy to see me?

Haddock said...

I suppose you made the wrong guess about him and cheese.

Jono said...

What is it about women in Minnesota having string cheese in their purse? I have seen this scenario play out regularly since moving here decades ago. I came from out Philadelphia way and it was more common to see cream cheese there. I may have to pursue some research.

Joanne Noragon said...

String cheese is a great go to. Trouble is, I never carry a bag.

Launna said...

Haha... to cute... really makes you wonder about people sometimes... actually all the time... :-/

Yamini MacLean said...

Hari OM
.......okay, I am trying to work out what kind of cheese comes in or on strings....

Weird. YAM xx

Susan Kane said...

If I were you, I would manage to fingerprint your bus companions, just for safety's sake.

Rosemary Nickerson said...

oooooo.....scary!!!!! This is a comment on where we have gotten to today: terrorism at the Bus Stop.

Janie said...

You have great powers of observation. There's some great people watching at bus stops or airports. I'm not sure if the guy with French fries or the lady with string cheese would have been more fun to observe. The interaction was pretty classic, though.

Elephant's Child said...

String cheese? What is it? Please. My mind is stuck on it.

Busy Bee Suz said...

Oh my gosh...the people you can encounter at the bus stop. Geeze. It's not safe anywhere...who knew what YOU could have pulled out of your purse.
Funniest thing I've read in a long time. Keep up the good {funny} work!
Suz

jenny_o said...

To Yamini and Elephant's Child:

String cheese is just a different way to cut cheese for packaging to a (mostly youthful - hear that, Pearl?!) market. The cheese looks like a solid mass but you can peel narrow "strings" one at a time away from their brethren. Makes eating it fun! And it doesn't get in your teeth quite like biting into a big hunk of it. Hope that helps!

Yamini MacLean said...

Hari OM
...Jenny-O (Pearl) - got ya.

But it's still weird!! &*<>

River said...

I have never in my life carried cheese in my bag. Chocolate, yes.

Kymbo Whitford said...

Hmm, pepper spray or Taser? Youre looking at a bloke who's probably had both aimed at him before...

Ugich Konitari said...

Two types and bus stops.

Upright
decently dressed
pillars of the working world,
who look like an
aloof Republican,
but are like the
democratic stringy cheese
they carry in their minds,
as they
involve themselves
with everyone around,
solving problems,
and giving of themselves
in connected streaks,
all together now!

And then
there are those
pretentious ones,
closet Republicans,
with recessive waists,
drop by drop trousers,
economically scarred jackets
and a hundred little braids
pretending to reach out,
while
actually closing their minds
like upright little french fries,
trying to hold up
drooping necks.
Saying,
"No , I wont pass the Fries
in the Bus House,
You can shut down your purse
till the cheese melts...."

the walking man said...

Ya never know when someone is going for a gat to get your fresh fries.

Bonnie said...

Pearl, I so enjoy reading about your bus stop adventure. I, too, almost always have a spare string cheese in my lunch bag. I will most definitely return for next weeks episode. Thank you so much for visiting me. I hope you are having a grand weekend. Bonnie

Suldog said...

I guess the obvious is that he, being of braids and low-riding pants, may be thought to be dangerous by many - even if he isn't, at all - so he has learned to be wary of well-dressed women (some quite paranoid, unlike yourself) pulling pepper spray or mace from their purses. It would certainly be a much nicer world if those eating fries and those eating cheese sticks got together more often as you two did.