"Wiiiiiiiise meeeeen saaaaaaay, only fooooools ruuuuush iiiin....." the radio was crooning Mr. Presley over the speakers up in the top front corners of the bus. Taking in a deep breath, I could almost zero in and envelop myself in that sound....
DING-CLICK. SSSSSSssssccccreeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEECH HIIIIIISSSSSSSSHHHHH!
Stupid stops. Stupid whoever behind me wanting to get off. The driver had only made it two blocks for Pete's sake?! Couldn't you have gotten off back when I got on.... oh well.... I must be hungry, that's the only reason I'd be this bitchy at 10:00 PM at night... focus on the music....
"If IIIIII caaaaaan't heeeeelp, falling in loooooove wiiiith youuuuu,"
Ahhhhhh..... I love Elvis. Starting to hum to myself, I pulled my pack a little closer to my sternum on my lap, peeking out the window into the fog swirling around the bus as it moved down the empty street. A few, bland, lonely flickering street lamps lit the road ahead of us.
"YOU have a great voice."
Jerking up my bag, hitting my knee on the seat in front of me, and nearly peeing my pants all at once, I realized the voice had come from the driver in front of me, not some creepy dude sitting in the shadows on a practically empty bus behind me. Though I suppose that would have been considered romantic by some people.
In a horror movie kind of way.
"Oh. Thanks." I said sheepishly embarrassed and turning (I'm sure) the color of a pink tomato.
Jeebus, he'd scared me half to death! I hadn't even realized that I was singing loudly enough for someone to hear... then again, it was just us on this giant blue and white twinkie of a vehicle. I blinked and realized I'd been holding my breath, so I exhaled as silently as I could and tried to focus on the blurry buildings behind the fog as we turned onto the paved-not-quite-interstate-road that would take me toward Newmarket.
"You can keep singing if you want to. I don't mind. As I said, you have a really nice voice."
Not knowing what to do about this statement, I just nodded to him with an awkwardly uncomfortable smile in that big goofy looking mirror that all busses have, so that drivers can monitor their passengers.
You know, make sure that people aren't punching each other, making out, getting to 3rd base or passing around drugs... oh wait, that's what junior high bus drivers did. I'm sure this kid was just a student trying to make some extra money by driving for the uni.
Staring at the zipper on my ridiculously heavy-laden pack, I hoped he wouldn't mention it again. It was really kind of him to say he enjoyed my singing, but it was weird too... though why it's weird for people to compliment each other I don't know. It had to be because we were the only two souls riding on a university bus after 10 at night. Through fog.
My apartment was coming up. I could see the cars in the driveway. Silent, ghostly, mini-whales, sleeping in the deep of the thick, swirling mist. The kitchen light glowed warmly and invitingly at me. I knew my 3 quadmates would be waiting in the kitchen. We were going to do some D.D.R. in the living room with tequila. Best. Roomies. Ever.
DING-CLICK RRRRRRReeeeeeeeKKKKASHHHH HIIIIISSSSSSS!
"Thanks for the ride," I mumbled scooting past the driver. He smiled at me. Not a bad smile at all. His eyes looked tired, and his knit hat had pushed his hair over one eye. He looked goofy, but like he might be sweet and not too scary after all.
"Sing on my bus anytime," he said softly, grinning.
"Sure," I said smiling myself. It was hard not to after making eye contact. Hazel. Why do I have such a thing for eyes....
He winked at me and slid the doors open with a whine and a thump. I turned and promptly fell down the steps of the bus.
"Whoa! You ok?" he said with genuine concern, and a not-so-hidden smile. Man I'm such a klutz sometimes.
"HA! Yeah, fine," I said brushing myself off and giggling like the idiot I was. "Have a nice rest of your route."
"You too. Walk safely." The bus pulled away, growling down the road and I scuffed my feet up our walk way, thinking to myself,
Gosh darn Elvis.
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This morning, as I walked along, humming to myself, I realized I had a tune stuck in my head. At first it was a tune called "Suspicion," by the late, great King himself, and then I switched over to "Fools Rush In."
When I was in college I would often sing on my walks around campus. I'd get out of rehearsal late; sometimes close to 1:00 AM and I always felt safer belting out a song as I trod home with my weapon of a half-full nalgene bottle (thanks C.W.) than not.
The little narrative above is basically a blip of one of the many times I would start singing without even realizing I was doing it. I still do that a lot. J thinks it's funny, endearing and cute, bless him. I don't understand how I, an admittedly auditory person, can sing and not know that I'm making sound.
Oh well, hopefully people don't mind too much. Our giant cats don't. They sing too sometimes. Especially if we're not in the same room that they are. I like to think of them as big ole' gospel cats, meeeowing a call and response spiritual. :-D
Here are some pictures. I've mentioned them enough times that I'm sure some of you wanna' see. So here:
Oberon sleeping. Something he does very well and quite often.
All right, I think I've regaled you enough with cats and lost snippets of memories. Have a great day, if you feel like it. If you don't, well, spread the grumpy, I'm sure something amusing will come of it.
I caught myself singing rather loudly in the thrift store the other day. I had no idea I was doing it. And yet, karaoke terrifies me.
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ReplyDeleteHah. When I start singing, it is truly a cringeworthy event. But I hum, talk, and sing to myself all. the. time. I am pretty sure that this is proof that I am going to grow up to be a crazy cat lady.
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