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Bus Story: A Smile is a Gift. Unless it’s Just Creepy

July 27, 2010

It’s a relatively sparse gang on the bus this warm trip home so he stands out. The guy is dressed like any number of riders leaving downtown; short hair, late 30’s, khakis, dress shirt, non-descript shoes. He’s a fellow Minion of Work, one of our comrades. Then he turns and smiles at a woman across the aisle. Nothing nice or friendly in that smile, let me tell you. Thankfully she missed it, because she’d need to douse herself in Lysol after that. Suddenly, he’s not one of us, he’s an imposter – a skeevy creepazoid in corporate camouflage. In a reverse Body Snatcher moment, I want to point at him and shriek in a proper scary-movie way. I wonder if he practiced that smile and thought, “Yeah, this is what The Ladies like…” Dude, you could rent yourself out as an herbicide, ’cause that smile could kill plants fast!


From → Bus Stories

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