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Monday, October 31, 2005

The Bus is Her Stage

Her day peaks exactly twice: Once at 7:56 a.m. when she boards the No. 18 bus at a quiet corner in south Minneapolis and again at 5:25 when it drops her off at that same intersection.

As the bus pulls to a stop every weekday morning, the curtain rises and the lights brighten. Mentally checking her posture, she holds her small pink alligator purse in one hand and waves at the driver with the other. Her smile is radiant as she bounces up the steps and into the spotlight. She takes her time paying the fare, first digging for her card and then slowly reaching it toward the scanner.

This is the only time of day when people look at her. When something stops, pays attention and waits for her to act.

The smile is still pasted on her face as she swishes in black leggings and office-appropriate skirt to take a seat. She always sits in the back of the bus, making sure to walk slowly past each row, her smile saying good morning but her eyes saying look at me.

The 20-minute bus ride is too short. At work she sits quietly at her desk in the middle of a downtown office tower. She’s learned that people are too busy to pay attention to a divorced middle-aged woman with her roots showing. It is a very long intermission.

On the way home, she chooses a window seat in a middle row. Exactly one block and one yard away from her stop, she slowly reaches up with her hand gracefully extended and grabs hold of the cord by hooking it with a manicured index finger. Sure that everyone seated behind her is watching her every move, she daintily pulls the cord and hears the beep signalling a stop.

She slowly rises, says excuse me to the person seated next to her and moves to the aisle. As the bus slows to her corner, she grabs the metal bars near the ceiling for support and for effect, one leg extended like a ballerina’s pose.

And then it is time to leave the stage. The bus stops and she moves forward. Saying goodbye and thank you to the driver, she dons a long and toothy smile and descends onto the street corner. As the double doors close, she turns in slow motion and waves a wave worthy of a small-town beauty queen. The curtains drop and the lights dim, leaving her in a haze of glory and diesel fumes.

Posted by Aaron on October 31, 2005 9:30 AM

Comments:

another wonderful story book written snip-it from your daily life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

if you can't figure out who this is, you need serious help. ;-) call me

!!!!!!!!!!!!
October 31, 2005 9:42 AM

Why can't people have their card ready when they board the bus? No, instead they have to finger through their purse/bag and make everyone else (who probably have their cards ready) wait. Why is this such a foreign concept? Maybe we should start posting signs at bus stops:

Please have your bus fare ready upon boarding.

SparklesMpls
October 31, 2005 1:12 PM

Hi Aaron! You're trying something sort of different here, but I don't think it quite works. (Personally, I wouldn't even try because I know I'd fail miserably!) Not sure whether to feel pity or something else. She has an inner story you're trying to convey from third person, but there's some uncertainty in the narrative voice here--let me know if I'm totally stoopid...

jon d
October 31, 2005 2:55 PM

You're right. My first stab at fiction -- or at least very embellished non-fiction -- complete with under-development.

It's okay with me, though, if you don't know how to feel about this person. I don't know, either.

And if I did know, I would rather let you figure it out anyway.

Aaron
October 31, 2005 3:09 PM

Personally, I think the uncertainty in your voice conveys a humility. Maybe we're not supposed to feel a resolute sense of knowing characters - sort of like admitting that we can never fully know another person.

I liked it a lot. People need venues to perform in, and admit it or not most of us find or create them in really odd places.

Matty
October 31, 2005 5:10 PM

You have just painted my day from beginning to end........

Daniël
October 31, 2005 9:21 PM

Great entry....and I love love love Nina Simone! I saw at the top that you are listening to her! Great blog you have here..I think I might have to link you up!

Roy
November 1, 2005 3:24 PM

I don't see narrative uncertainty here, but maybe I'm missing something.

I agree that further character and theme development will make the piece stronger.

Also its far easier said than done, and I'm not particularly good at this myself, but I've found I am more affected by characters when their feelings are conveyed through actions, gestures, or ruminations about related events, rather than when these feelings are directly stated. It's probably because hints and allusions demand of me greater cognition, which makes me feel smarter...

I think your themes, of the loneliness and invisibility that urban life often compounds, are powerful and I hope you'll continue with them.

Haris
November 1, 2005 5:41 PM

Loved the story. I think that many of us can identify with this as a piece on urban life, like Haris had noted. Especially being gay, we long for attention from those guys who usually aren't gay, and don't even notice how intensely we notice them. I remember once I had a class with a gorgeous guy who basically kept me interested in the class the whole semester. Didn't even know him, but I knew he wasnt't gay. Buti isn't it interesting how we create these huge scenarios in our mind like that?

A lot of us are that woman who aren't noticed much (or by people we want to be noticed by!) and we create our own stage and make our own reality. Wherever you plan to go with the story, it'll be fun to check back on it.

- JL; first time reader

JL
November 4, 2005 5:06 PM