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Bus Story: No Smoking Trumps Evil

January 26, 2010

With “Dead Can Dance” playing in my ears, I take notice of a man as he lowers his newspaper. That he’s reading a newspaper is unusual all on it’s own, but the real shock comes from his appearance. Gnarled and matted, iron gray hair with bits of black struggling to be seen. A complexion that seems to have been exposed to every difficulty life has to offer. And eyes that are small, sharp, and intensely angry. He pulls out a pack a cigarettes and almost lights up, amazingly, on a bus line that has been smoke-free since Bono was in short pants. He snarls a bit as someone catches him before the lighter hits the tip and gives him a look that clearly conveys the magnitude of his error. He reminds me of no less than the Picture of Dorian Gray. It’s as if the picture swapped places with Dorian and is riding the ole 54 and rankling at the goodness of a smoke-free bus ride.

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