According to the scrolling marquee at the front of the
bus, today’s date is 10/23/34.
I turn away from it, return to my Springtime Revelry, required
of all Minneapolitans, wherein we gaze lovingly at the green, green, green of a
well-deserved spring.
It’s October, 2034, you say.
I feel as if I should be more concerned about that. My bills, for instance. Am I current?
Or perhaps it’s 1934, in which case I am earlier for work
than I’ve ever been.
I am struggling with which scenario I prefer when the bus
comes to a stop. A young woman settles
into the seat next to me.
I wait. It’s been
a full two seasons since I’ve last seen her.
Does she still do it? Will she do
it now? I can wait for – I pull out my
phone, check the time. I can wait for
another nine minutes.
I got all morning, lady.
And just like that, my patience is rewarded. She opens her purse, pulls out a small
zippered bag from which she pulls out a small bottle. From this bottle she squeezes perfect,
candy-button sized daubs of lotion onto her fingertips. Dab. Dab dab dab. The ends of her fingers dance, lightly,
across her cheeks, her chin, up on to her forehead and down the line of her
nose. Dab. She isn’t rubbing. She isn’t smoothing. It’s far more delicate than that. Her fingertips touch delicately upon her
flesh. She is young, she is moderately
attractive, and dagnabit, her skin is hydrated and dewy and it’s going to stay
that way.
I look out the window.
I want to stop her, want to tell her that she is going to look as young
as she does right up until she doesn’t, that with bone structure like hers,
moderate attention to her diet and exercise, she will be judged much younger
than she is, right up until she isn’t.
I look back, quickly, to see her carefully, oh so
carefully, massaging the lotion into her face.
She doesn’t stop until two minutes before I get off the bus.
What year is it?
It’s both sooner and later than we think it is.
25 comments:
I'll bet her fingertips look young as well.
Back to back Pearl! I hope this is a trend.
Hari OM
Yet again you reflect us as only a Pearl can... YAM xx
But, did she use hand sanitizer FIRST? ;) If she didn't, well, all the you'llbeyoungforever lotion in the world ain't gonna help! *that's my story and i'm stickin to it* xoxoxox
p.s. lovin' the back to back Pearl, sweetpea!
Ha-ha! She's still at it? At least she didn't dab you. Young until
she isn't, is funny.
I used to love watching the Chinese groom and massage themselves in public. The ear pulling was my favorite. I knew they Chinese did not have bathrooms in their apartments, but I thought that was pretty much usual in Minnesota.
My no longer (was I ever) young self has sooooo missed riding the buses with you.
ONLY Pearl could write an entertaining post about someone putting lotion on. ONLY Pearl. (You know, John Prine wrote a song "Jesus: The Missing Years." How about "Pearl: The Missing Months"?
Poor disillusioned gal. Age and time catch up with all of us whether we want them to or not. And if it's 2034, no wonder I feel so old today. I love your reflections on the people on the bus, Pearl.
I had a night stand digital clock that went off into the future once. It was never same after that. I finally took it apart for the parts. I didn't notice any time machine chips. So that age defying lotion works until it doesn't. Now that's a guarantee you can take or leave.
Are you really back on the blog or just some ephemeral virtual artificial intelligence roaming the internet?
I wasn't worried until Bill's comment. Now I worry that there is an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of (working) computer terminals, cranking out Pearls Posts.
Huh. Interesting posts, esp. after an absence. Often people (not you, no inference meant) occasionally offer an explanation or some oblique reference after an extended hiatus. Not you, though.
You doing ok? Inquiring minds, etc...
Mike (ShouldFishMore) memoirsofacardiopulmonaryguy.blogspot.com
Eventually, no matter what we do, all of us run out of young,
That's what I'm doing wrong!
All this time I've been applying moisturiser straight after my shower, instead of waiting until I get on the bus. (*~*)
With 18 years before you have to be at the time clock I assume you will have plenty of time to watch the young womans first crow foot step on her face.
Ah the secret of youth, I'm dabbing right now and won't ever stop!
Her skin may be dewy, but it ain't gonna stay that way forever! Ask anybody from 1934. Or me.
It will be fun to watch her age because she will, you know. Yes, it will happen when she least expects it. You will witness it and tell us inquisitive types all about it. So glad to see you're back. Glad to see your front, too.
In my heart, it's sooner. When I look in a mirror--later.
We'll go with heart! :)
Astute observations, as always, Pearl. You write these moments so very well.
People who do their sanitizing on the bus don't deserve to . . . . be in my Pearl's space on the bus.
You saying you're supposed to put that moisturizer on your OWN face? No wonder people avoid me!
There is a life in buses I am now missing since I drive everywhere. Luckily I have you to remind me about it. :) Also, did the lotion at least smell nice?
Do you remember when back to the future was actually in the future? I travel through various time zones on a regular basis...wait, what am I saying they still have buses in 2036?
2034! I'd be around 100 yrs old!
I don't rub on face cream ... eat a lot of ice cream and fill the wrinkles out with fat. But if that doesn't work I could try the patting thing. Do you have any suggestions for arms. My biceps fell off and are hanging on the bottom part of my arms now. Open to ideas ....
A dabber on the bus? That would be strange to watch. I only know rubbers.
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