It was fairly cool out today, and once again on the bus I noted how different people have different comfort zones in terms of temperature and clothing. I was actually in blue jeans, a guy sitting across from me was in shorts, and another guy had on a jacket, hat, and gloves—all of which he kept on and zipped up the entire ride.
Once at work, I kept thinking about the possibility that my phone had fallen out on my front stoop or between the bus stop and walking back to my house, and since it was raining—and predicted to rain all day—I took a bus back to my car at the AFFLP&R to look for it.
In the category of things it can't be good to hear your bus driver say to a friend standing outside her door at a stop, this one ranks right up there, "Gurl, you need to get up in this bus and keep me awake. I'm so tired." So sad to hear that twenty people's lives isn't a compelling enough reason to stay awake. But I digress, making it all about me...
A young man got on at this stop, and as if to fulfill her wish, he stood as far front of the bus as he could while having a conversation with her tired ass for about ten minutes.
He was in the middle of a sentence when he stopped talking, took two steps back, and pulled the cord to indicate he wanted to get off at the next stop. Then, he stepped back up to her and continued what he was saying. Uh, why not just ask her to stop at the next stop? I'm quite sure city bus Hot Mess Driver would have some suggested rule to follow about that.
When I got to my car, I looked around to see if my phone had fallen out somewhere in it, moving both front seats all the way forward to see if it had slipped under one of them. Not finding it there, I drove back to my place, where I checked the front door, both outside and inside still to no avail, and then I walked back and forth from my house to the city bus stop, again, all to no avail.
Back at my house, I once again moved the driver's seat all the way forward and checked under it. It wasn't there, but then I noticed it was off to the side—wedged between the seat and the console between the two front seats. It showed two missed calls.
I met Susan Katz for lunch at Sadlack's where we used number 3 of 6 Groupon coupons we've purchased for that place. As he's wont to do, David talked a lot, and as a result, Susan and I didn't get much catching up time in.
Afterwards, we scheduled two lunch dates there for April, as we have to use our other three before they expire in June, and Susan usually doesn't come to campus in June, so it'll be best if we finish them in May.
Dancing was on the annoying side tonight. Geromy was supposed to be visiting from New Orleans, and everyone kept asking me why he wasn't there when he hadn't arrived by 10:00. What do I look like, Geromy's mother?
In addition to that, there were a bunch of people there, most of whom wanted to take the lesson and most of whom had been drinking enough to make them, I was going to say loud and obnoxious—but let's just say enough to "lower their inhibitions." More annoying than that, however, was the complete lack of knowledge of dance floor etiquette, about which I've ranted and raved here before.
Geromy finally arrived at about 10:40, as did this guy who had come out to dance with us on March 2nd, along with his friend Natalie, and who is one of those people who think they are such good line-dancers that they can learn a dance trying it for the first time while people who know it are dancing to it.
And that kind of ego, coupled with that issue of etiquette ignorance, is the kind of thing that can lead to someone who knows what they're doing (that would be me) getting tripped and potentially spraining or breaking something. When you get to be my age...
So, for the Tush Push, said dancing genius made his own row on my side of the dance floor and in front of the front row, which I was in, and he proceeded to try to do the dance (which he doesn't fully know) facing the direction that the row behind the front row is dancing, which is to say, in the opposite direction of the front row.
Making a quarter turn, as the dance is wont to do, I find that he has stayed dancing in the same direction as the row behind me, but he has moved into my row. What this means if you're not really following it, is that he's now facing me, which in and of itself might not have been a bad thing, but in a few steps from then, the dance calls for four forward steps before a pivot.
Do you know what happens when two people facing each other both take four steps forward when there's only about two steps of space between them?
I'll tell you what happened in this case. I walked off the dance floor and out the door.