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Bus Story: Mooning About

May 30, 2013

The sun makes an appearance or two this morning, pushing his way through the clouds and throwing puddles of light along our route. At one stop, as we shudder to a stop, a tall dude, perhaps in his late twenties lopes aboard. With him wafts a smell that is familiar and off-putting. I can’t quite place it immediately. He’s wearing shorts and a rain jacket, which is not unusual in these parts. What is less standard is the amount of hair he has, on his legs and face; everywhere that is exposed is covered in a brown pelt. And coming from me, someone who had to shave twice a day when I was an actor, I know uber-hirsute when I see it. He drops into a seat and, while working on a laptop, he chews gum. Fervently chews gum. The smacking and snapping of his chiclet-laden jaws can be heard from one end of the bus to the other. I sneak a look at his laptop and notice that he’s checking the almanac, and, more specifically, the upcoming phases of the moon. And now I place the smell permeating from him. Wet dog. The pieces fall into place. It seems that someone’s werewolf training included being vigilant about the cycles of the moon, but left off that chewing gum with those big canine teeth is problematic.

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