Neighbors

I've never seen any of my neighbors on the M66. Of course, I have yet to meet most of my neighbors so I might have sat next to a neighbor on the bus today. I met the guy who lives across the hall from me twice in a thirty minute time span this evening. The first time I was carrying laundry that had been washed and dried by someone else. The second time I was carrying dinner that was made by someone else. I told my neighbor that I had forgotten how to cook and how to do my laundry. He said that he thought that I was a good cook. He liked the smell of onions that sometimes came from my apartment. My last girlfriend said that this wasn't the case. She repeatedly told me that I didn't know how to cook onions. Too impatient, she said. She used to praise my dish washing skills, though. I am a good dishwasher. Thorough and uncomplaining. It was nice of my neighbor to pay me a compliment. It was a compliment, wasn't it?

M66 Crosstown

This blog is about my non-linear thoughts on a linear bus route. The M66 Crosstown takes me across Central Park and then back home again. I usually ride it five days a week. Travel time is about 40 minutes each way. The first day of work I walked. Since then I've taken the bus. I like the M66 Crosstown. I smile when I see it. I sometimes run after it when it leaves and am disappointed when it's late. Of course, I've been on other buses. One bus picked me up in Guatemala City, fed me a McDonald's pancake breakfast, showed me Getting Even With Dad, and took me up and around a mountainous landscape. I threw up 16 times on that trip. One woman tried to give me dramamine after the 10th heave. Very thoughtful. I've been quite taken with other buses. Buses have gotten me around Latin America, Japan, Cuba, and the U.S. I have a lot of memories tied to buses. Don't get wrong I prefer to fly and take trains but it seems like I've spent a lot of time on buses. And on long bus rides your mind has time to wander.