A humid, jailbait Moment In Time

October 13, 2009
Montebello bus line 40, Westbound
7 p.m. ish

Coming home!
Yaba daba doo!!
Memories of The Flintstones. That damn dinosaur bird that sticks his head out and signals the ending bell, the shift over, Fred slides down and out, ready to take on the town…and I slide
in and out right out of my large mirrored corporate edifice
into the gray evening.
Rain in L.A.
Well you can call it that
I call it mist. What is half of a drizzle….???
And really, the first rain of the season, which is a bad combination, when the first rain is a half drizzle, piss ass shitty wannabe rain trying to wash
away
the accumulated filth that has been deepening all summer
and then some
since the last rain. Which in L.A. is really a test of memory.
So you got pinhead-sized rain drops which provide just enough
moisture to make the dirt and dust sticky,
to make the dirty sidewalks smelly glisten,
and which barely
give the windshield wipers any grease with which to do their dutiful job
as they
dance
back and forth
back
and
forth
back and forth
and sometimes if you watch closely enough, too closely
forth and back
forth
and back

so as I scale the bus’s staircase into the
reception area where you feed your money or hand your inter-agency pass you bought earlier in the Red Line station
and the bus
smells, feels, embraces with a humid claw like an unwashed bath
where the water is too hot for the closed windows and closed doors.
And that is the bus.
It’s L.A. for chrissakes.
It’s maybe in the 60’s, not really cold, but people are bundled
up, heads covered, scarved,
you’d think
we were on the Arctic Express, but no
it’s only Montebello bus line 40, headed to Montebello as
the motorized female voice repeats at each stop.
Slap that bitch she’s annoying!
As ya all know I love the back and the
back is where I end
listening to music. That’s my commuting life.
Sitting in humid buses during the first SoCal storm of the season which is a joke and is only serving to make things
murky and sticky and icky and clogged and funky and
the rain which chooses not to wash
in fact
does the opposite, seems to soil. To dirtify. I made that word up. Dirtify, that’s what the rain does today in L.A.
And sitting there, one of the
few in this town today
without a jacket,
bare-armed.
Gladly now, cause it is humid.
Sitting, gross, the bus air is thick and I glance gratefully at the couple of open
windows that shows some people had good sense.

And also cuz I’m a red-blooded American male damnit I also do a once over
for hot chicks. Hot chicks can really lessen the bus ride’s load
and this bus
ride
needs a serious load taken off.
And there she is
a one
I had spotted her earlier
sitting by the window.
Wearing the standard attire for the day, jeans, tennis and a gray hoodie. What a cute little bundle of jail bait! 16, 17, tops. When I boarded the bus
I thought she was with a boyfriend
someone next to her
someone large, wearing a baggy hoodie as well and from where I sat, Jailbait was shielded from my view
by her large baggy boyfriend.
Until, that is.
Until her boyfriend spoke. On a phone conversation. Boyfriend was a woman.
Oh Lord.
Not a boyfriend, not a girlfriend, they just happened to be sharing adjoining seats.
Difference being that whereas jailbait wore her asexual shit sexually,
her large neighbor wore her shit manly.
Wow.
So Jailbait sitting alone, nice and hot and humid in here with her
little dainty very feminine upturned little button nose
black wavy hair scrunched up
under her hood and really nice flawless pale skin, large eyelashes, just a doll.
And all I can think is
fuck it’s disgusting in here.
And then I smell food.
I smell food, but the faint trace of food, not a strong dominating odor, as if someone had carried a food container on to the bus.
No this was the faint whiff of food, like someone had food breath or food smell
oozing from their humid pores.
Blah disgusting not enough windows open for that joy. Gawd. And that food smell won’t blow away
and Jailbait hidden from site by big baggy manwoman. Ugh turning into a shitty ride.

And get this.
Within moments of pondering the shittiness of this ride…
big baggy manwoman gets up and exits the bus!!!!!!!!!!!

And apparently, I was not alone
for the minute manwoman left, the empty seat next to Jailbait suddenly turned into a sexually repressed black hole and all attentions and sexual energies suddenly flooded that spot.
I swear the minute manwoman left you could sense the unease and discomfort and plain lust as the remaining male population in the back of the bus went on collective red alert.
The void
left by manwoman
acted as a powerful gravitational
force
which magnetized all our attentions, subtle and not-so…

And now I had a clean view of Jailbait. Dude, the essence of
Jailbait. Very cute and girlish face but a body which screamed FERTILE to the cavemen of yore
who didn’t care about stupid Christian laws.
Cause the male body
is an outlaw. It’s his mind that must obey.

Basking in the clean view, the bus seems less humid less sticky less smelly even, the food smell is gone…

Next stop…a man boards, walks slowly to the back, eyes the empty seat, seems to
contemplate other seats
and I’m secretly using my great mental powers of subconcious persuasion to make him
pick any seat
but the one
by Jailbait.
But alas, my mental powers are no match here in this sauna bus.
Tall older guy with droopy eyes and he shields Jailbait more forcefully than even
manwoman did. Sigh.

Is that the damn food smell again???