The Bus

She doesn't apologize for holding up the bus. That's probably the first thing I notice about her. Maybe the third or fourth, she has a body worth mentioning as well. But the first solid thought that scrambled across my mind was that she has not yet apologized. I fact, there is no sign of guilt wrinkling up her face or skewering about in her mind. Mot girls would have apologized for their tardiness in a breathless way as if to imply they had sprinted across town to catch the bus. They forget buses have windows or some shit because I can see them strolling down the street. It's not like it bothers me or anything, when people hold up the bus. Most of the time I have nowhere important to be. It's just that I don't understand women and why they have to lie all the time. It's like they think I'm stupid. Just cause you put on some fucking breathless tone as you climb the bus stairs doesn't make me forget that you just wasted a good two minutes crossing the street.
Anyway, this girl didn't say thank-you either. Most women would have, in an excessive and insincere way. "Thank you so so so much, this is the best part of my day. You held this lovely crowded stinking bus for little ol' me? However can I repay you? Oh? Lean over a little while I apologize? A little more? Smile like you have a chance with me? Why sure, that seems like adequate payment.". Most of the time I wish the driver would just tell them to sit the hell down. They're so hollow, most women anyways.
She kind of nodded instead, squirmed her way down the aisle and seated herself between an older woman and a teenage girl. Right across from myself.