Polite mayhem and bad girl sex

I drove to Northgate to catch a 41 into downtown. I had to have a blood draw after work, and the lab's very close to Northgate.

Others were clustered at the bus bay where the 41 picks up riders. When the bus pulled up, we all just kind of balled up by the front door. There was no order, but it was also quiet and decent. Polite mayhem bus-loading.

By the time I got on, it was SRO. I hung onto two poles running horizontally above me. I felt like I was back on the elementary school playground and considered swinging to the next bar.

I had masked up, the bus was crowded and I was dressed for the cold, so I was way too hot. I had the micro-climate thing going on inside my mask. A mini-global warming experiment. I was expelling too much CO2, and if there had been any polar bears in my mask, they'd be dying.

As I hung there with my ankles securing my bag of lunches for the week, baking in my safe-from-germs gear, I wondered what it will be like this spring when the weather turns warmer. I won't want to wear a hat. Will I be brave enough to be bald on the bus?

As my mother used to say, "We'll see."

I looked down the aisle and noticed a woman reading a magazine. All I could see on the cover was "BAD GIRL SEX" and that the magazine was Cosmopolitan.

Shit, if some woman can read such trash on the bus and not be embarrassed, surely I can go bald when the weather warms.

I truly can't imagine doing what she did.

I also can't imagine having my bald head not covered while riding the bus.

But it'd be easier than being caught reading in such a public setting the a magazine that says on its cover "75 very naughty moves to try on a man."