On The Bus... #9 or A Well-Thought Plan

Two men boarded the bus. One was wearing designer clothes, with a thick-rimmed stylish spectacles to complement his classy look.

The other had on a sleeveless t-shirt, showing off his well-toned and muscular tanned arms. He was carry a very large piece of luggage, possibly large enough to hold two dozen golden taps, or at least 600,000 peanuts.

I was seated at the last row of the double-deckered Super Bus, and the stylish chap came to the back and stood beside me, beckoning his friend over.

Tanned-Arms-With-A-Body-Bag came over, and dumped his load on the ground, right in front of where I was seated.

"Shit! Either I have to walk over his body-bag, or I'll have to pray that they get off before me," I thought.

By this time, the two of them had their rears positioned left and right of me, with me and the body-bag in between them. The overpowering cologne smell wafted through the air-conditioned bus, settling down with a radius that reached the rear exit of the bus. (Trust me on this one.)

Heads turned to look at them as they boarded the bus and got seated.

So then they started their conversation about the sun and the sky, about the wind and the rain. Loud laughter punctuated the end of every sentence, together with audible "Oh my God, really?!!!" accentuated their presence, with grins showing off their pearly-white rows of teeth. Following which, the unmistakable broken-wrist-with-only-the-index-finger-sticking-out gestures proved their identities.

Not to mention that I even noticed Designer-Guy throwing glances at me (It is very unlikely that another stranger's eyes meet yours more than thrice on a same bus trip. Much less likely when it's the eyes of somebody of the same gender as you).

I was lucky they disembarked before me. I had feared the worst, preparing myself for my wrists to be grabbed by Designer-Guy when I was going to hold onto the railing to cross over the trap laid by Tanned-Arms-With-A-Body-Bag.

A well-thought plan indeed.