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Bus Story: Pink Boxes

March 29, 2010

Pouring rain this morning, and I’m on a smaller, non-articulated version of the ole 54. Dashing aboard, escaping the shower is a nice looking guy, probably in his mid-thirties. He is carrying a satchel, a coffee, and a Pink Box. He sweeps his hood off and, opening the Pink Box, grins like a 6-year old kid looking at Christmas morning. Cupcakes. He glances about to see if anyone is looking, which we are. You can’t enter a relatively small space with a Pink Box and not garner some attention. His restraint wins and he closes the box. The ridership this morning lets out a collective sigh of resignation that we are not going to get cupcakes. The Pink Box brings both hope and disappointment this wet and wooly morning.

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From → Bus Stories

2 Comments
  1. Oh, I love this one. Collective resignation may be better than collective envy had he brought only one and eaten it gratuitously.

    • Thanks, Caroline! Yes, indeed…I was holding my breath in case he pulled one out. It could have been bedlam. Cupcake Bedlam.

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