i like the way the trees droop when it rains

Karma is good.
In fact.
Karma is GREAT.

I don’t believe in being mean to people and I try to help everyone as much as I can but the reality of it is, I can be a dick and I can be greedy.That’s natural though,right?
Now, today has been one of those days where I was nothing more than a dick, however I would like to think of it as, being overly sarcastic.
Aside from the continuous stream of over played pop songs on the radio not much was putting a smile on my face, needless to say I went through out my day with out saying very much. Even when I did say something to someone I was left asking myself why I just said what I did but even in that I was not being mean…
I was simply pointing out the obvious…

I was simply pointing out the obvious…
Now, there was one point today, where I wanted to be nice and I couldn’t. No matter what I did I came out of the situation looking like an asshole.
I had just left the New Amsterdam Cafe and a friend of mine was kind enough to give me a smoke for the wait at the bus stop. The bus stop is a mere block away from the cafe so I lit my smoke as I left, knowing that by the time I got to the stop and finished it, my bus would soon arrive, which it did. As I approached the bus stop, I could feel someone looking at me and with out hesitation I looked up, found the culprit and stared her straight in the eyes. If I were to classify this as a staring contest I would say I won, but it was hardly that, I more so startled her with my sunken, blood shot eyes…I think..
At either rate it was obvious I have not scared this 5’8, slender Latino girl because as every second passed she was moving closer to me and her smile began to grow.
Over the past few years I have had a few different encounters with good looking Latino women so I was prepared for whatever she might say (and due to the circumstances I had my doubts that it would be much of anything).
Here is what I have learned about Latino women over the years they A) like heavier set white men aka “gorditas” or some shit B ) always use soft physical flirting when initiating a conversation and c ) get what they want when they want ( now this goes for most women I suppose, but Latino’s have a little extra sparkle in their eyes or something).
She approaches me with a smile and with very broken English says “hello!”.
She puts her right hand out for a hand shake and it’s at this time I exhale smoke from my lungs.I reply with a hand shake and somewhere between air entering and leaving and my vocal box making some squeeking sound, I manage to mutter something along the lines of ” good evening, how are you”
Still locked in the hand shake position she has taken in upon her self to make a sandwich of two rights and left. While I rummage through my internal catalog of things to talk to foreign women about in my home town I suck back what is left of my smoke and I spit out the classic “so are you from Vancouver?” Immediately realizing what I had said I let out an awkward little smile causing her to giggle in which she replies with ” you are funny”.
Now I feel like an idiot and am I left with nothing to say so I ask the obvious “What brings you to Vancouver?”
Still holding my hand, although gripping a little tighter with a slight pull on my arm she answers “education”
..and I have nothing..
I cannot think of one thing to say.
I would have liked  to have some sort of conversation but I had nothing.
I take one last drag before I flick the butt to the gutter and it comes out.
Her only reason for this bizarre encounter on Cordova street was to find a cigarette.
Still holding my hand and displaying the same grin she approached me with, she politely asks me if I have an extra cigarette.
As she see’s my face sink with disappointment she lets go of my hand and listens as I said “no a friend gave me this.”
This is something I tend to say a lot, but it is a lie 99% of the time but this one time it was not a lie and for some reason I don’t think she believed me. As she turned around to walk away I grabbed her arm and pulled an empty pack from my coat pocket just to assure her I was not being a dick, after all she tried hard for it. Still not pleased with me (seemingly so) she returns to the same spot she was standing not even 3 minutes ago.
We share a couple of glances at each other before I see my bus come around the corner.I put my headphones on, pick up my back pack and head to the curb to board my bus. To my surprise I find this girl already waiting at the curb for the same bus I am about to board.With out noticing I was standing a few feet behind her she gets on the bus and takes a seat. As she sits down she looks to the front of the bus and we make eye contact. I decide that I will take the seat next to her with intentions of having some sort of conversation for the next 21 minutes. Before I could sit down she removes her bag from her lap and places it firmly on the seat next to her.
I take the hint and find a seat else where and carry on listening to music. The bus ride seemed to take longer than normal. However when I looked at the time when we arrived at the transfer station I soon found out the trip was in fact 17 minutes compared to the regular 21 minutes.
I get off the bus to find my next (and final) bus already waiting at bay 2, with no reason to stand outside for the next 6 minutes I board the bus and am greeted with a nearly full bus.I find a 2 seats side by side and sit down.
I spend the next few minutes watching the people outside, when I spot the Latino girl… With a cigarette..
I chuckle to myself while the bus continues to fill up. As the driver begins to shut the door I see the girl make a sprint for the bus. Unaware I am on the bus she hops on to find the only seat free is sitting next to me. We catch each others eyes,smile and I move my bag off the chair allowing her to have a seat. We are both listening to music, hers louder than mine and I know this because I can hear it over top of what I am listening to.
We share this seat for the next 6 minutes without saying a word. I ring the bell informing the driver to stop at the next stop. As we approach the stop she stands in the isle allowing me to get out and I do so. I climb out of my seat to the isle and place my bag on the seat she was sitting in, until I can adjust myself and put it on my back. As the driver gets to my stop he comes in too fast and slams on the breaks forcing me toward the ground. Luckily I catch myself before I fall but now I am flustered and panicked because I am now holding the bus up. Before the girl sits down she picks up my bag and hands it to me and to both our surprise, the zipper bursts open and my shit goes falling to the floor. Now I am super embarrassed, she doesn’t know what to think so she picks up a few things and puts them in my already full hands, with my arms full I exit the bus and sort my shit out and she rides away on that small tin can. It is likely that we will not see each other again but in the event we do, the ice has already been broken….

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4 thoughts on “i like the way the trees droop when it rains

  1. You know, you are a really good writer. Vivid and real. Thank you for telling this story. I feel your pain with the end and your crap launched everywhere. Hope to see you again soon. Sorry about the Hoogie thing – no harm done, right?

  2. Oh Dustin, what a bizarre life you lead. But gorgeously written and entertaining! Perhaps your paths will cross again. She certainly seemed to be a fixture for today at least, despite both of your best efforts.

  3. I wish you had kept going, I seriously could have kept reading. Jaclyn is right, your blog is always entertaining, and satisfying!

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