Very informal.
As usual.
I saw an amazing(ly written) play last evening. It is Brian Friel's "Translations." The acting, not so good. The play itself- very powerful and moving.
I didn't come here to write about the play, though. Of course not. It would be very uncharacteristic of me.
I wanted to write about my bus ride home.
I noticed a very handsome fellow sitting on the back of the bus with two of his friends, engaging in what I would imagine a very silly conversation. There were moments where he would stand up at stops, spread his arms out wide and flail them like a madman, jump around the seats. From what I could tell, he was a very animated fellow.
He wore a light blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled half way up his arms and khaki pants- I didn't note anything else as I was greatly concentrated on his actions.
It was two stops until I had to get off, and he exited with his friends right in front of the QFC by Urban on Broadway. I caught a clear glimpse at his face- his lovely features. The most vivid were his amazing blue eyes, which immediately triggered a memory.
I had seen him before.
"I have to tell you something at the next stop," I yelped as he and his pals exited the bus.
"The very next?" my friend quizzed me.
"He is the guy I saw on the lightrail from the airport back in to town after Spring Break!"
He was, indeed. I never thought I would see him again. I figured, Seattle is fairly heavily populated, what were the odds I would see him again? I have butterflies recalling it.
"I guess I will be riding this bus aimlessly for the rest of my days in Seattle," I mumbled.
"Just to stalk him and see him again?"
"Hey! I will talk to him if I see him again. I will! Three times means the cosmos are pulling us together."
Ah.
But, would I? Would I really have the guts to say anything to him?
The sad reality is I probably wouldn't. You know how I am. He'll no longer be that nameless man from the Lightrail that I have happened to see twice on public transportation in my life. Maybe that is all he is good for: Another fantasy for me to forever remember.
Hej hej,
Any
P.S. Every damn post on this blog is the same. What a writer I am.
2 comments:
I read Friel's "Translations" in the airport in Belgium before my flight to Ireland, and I love it. I'm so jealous you got to experience it live!
I read Friel's "Translations" in the airport in Belgium before my flight to Ireland, and I loved it. You're so lucky to have been able to experience it live!
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