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The Nicest Christmas Hater Ever

By Grace

I sat on the bus, reading my book. I was dressed how I dress nearly everyday: black skirt suit, black heels, black overcoat, pearls. Nothing that reveals much about my personality.

Two girls get on the bus. They're sort of dressed... well...let's just say I might be able to hazard a guess as to their sexual orientation. And I can also tell they are probably a couple. The older of the two looks familiar, but I can't put my finger on it. Anyway, the younger one kisses the older one, and I, realizing that I was sort of staring, quickly went back to reading my book. The thought crosses my mind that I sort of wish I had a girl to ride the the bus with and kiss. I also thought about how nice it was that I live in a place where it's not weird for girls to kiss girls on buses.

The young one saw me looking at them and looking away.

"Uh... No need to STARE, honey. We'll pose for a picture if you're so fascinated!"

Is she talking to me? Haha. She is. Oops. Well, I was sort of staring, and my super conservative black skirt suit and pearls doesn't exactly do much to help. I look like I could be BFF's with Ann Coulter right now. Oh well.

"Yeah. We're LEEEEEHHHHZZZBIANS. We're so SCARY, aren't we, honey?"

The older one just sort of kept quiet, supporting her girlfriend by doing that half laugh thing that people do when they need to show solidarity with their partner who's being an ass.

Ooooooh. I just figured out how I knew the older one!!!

"Honey, you are, like, IN Lesbianville! Don't worry, we won't attack you. Don't be scared."

Jesus. I reach into my briefcase, and fumble around for my wallet. I'm looking for a little piece of paper. I really am hoping I didn't throw it away. Ugh. I bet I did.

"Oh, Blondie, we're passing a church! Maybe you want to get out and pray for our souls!"

OH what a bitch. The older one is now trying a little harder to quiet down her girlfriend. She got a better look at me. She's trying to figure out how she knows me. I'm still looking for the piece of paper.

"Honey, can I go down on you right here on the bus? It would be worth it to see the look on her face."

I found it. I have it in my hand. Fuck her. Oh this is going to be so good. The older one is just beginning to figure it out. I can see the wheels sort of turning in her head. She's trying to remember how drunk she was at that bar a few weeks ago. She has a vague memory of grabbing a blonde girls ass and giving the girl her phone number on the back of an ATM receipt. All of a sudden she knows what I'm holding in my hand.

It's my stop. I get up, and walk towards the exit. Right before I get off, I am going to hand the phone number to the loud young one, and say... well.. I don't know. Something clever. With every step closer, the older one looks more and more terrified. I am smiling ear to ear. I have the piece of paper in my hand. I am so ready to go.

And then, I don't know what happened. I felt really sorry for the older one. If I handed her girlfriend the piece of paper, I would ruin her Christmas. And I didn't want to do that. So, I just got off the bus, and threw the number in the garbage can.

The moral of the story? I do SO have holiday spirit.

Full post as published by Law with Grace on December 23, 2007 (boomark / email).