Nope, it's not my 11th boyfriend. Although, I would like to have at least half of that amount in ex-es. Alas, that is not the case.
Nope, nope, nope. It's the guy who used to drive no. 11 bus, when I live downtown. Cute guy. Strict, but polite. I like that in a man. Didn't recognize him at first. He looked so ... haggard and worn down. On his face I mean. You know, the expression of "I had boatload of s*** from people and I'm this close to quitting this job". He used to be so fresh and carefree, friendly to boot. At least, when he was driving the no. 11. What changed, 11 guy?
But then I realize, he was driving no. 1 bus. It's the main route and covers lot of millage. And has it's own history of crazy people clusters. And I mean crazy, like loose hinge on brain crazy. Crazy, preaching in the middle of the bus crazy. You know. So that explain the expression. Ah, too bad. He's kinda cute.
No comments:
Post a Comment