The Bus Dancer

(Written with less than a week to go to race day...)

In a city of a few million people, one would think you wouldn't run in to the same person twice. Or not twice a week.

Not me. I run into a guy I affectionately call 'The Bus Dancer.'

I've come to know him for a few reasons.

Whenever he's seated on the bus, he's on his Samsung flip phone. He talks. A lot.

Whenver he is standing, well, I think you can guess what he does. He can't stand still.

Keep in mind that bus is usually pretty full. As in, the standing passengers are close to if not touching each other already.

Yet he moves around. Leaning on one foot and then the other. Changing the hand that grips the bar. Doesn't grip the bar for awhile. Sighs. Looks longingly out onto traffic. The cycle restarts. Sometimes he does some weird stretching.

I try to ignore him when I see him.

However, last night, he was standing right next to me in the vestibule of the bus's back door.  He used the pole he held onto to stretch out his foot, constantly changing his position. Sometimes his position would back into me.

I kept hoping that my stop would come before he stepped on my foot or fell on me.

It would really stink if The Bus Dancer put me on the injury list for the marathon.