2009
I got on the Parc bus yesterday with some meat and potato salad and wine in a shopping bag for a barbeque. I sat in the seat directly in front of the back door on the left side of the bus where people will stand waiting for a stop. Inertia struck at every stop, sending my head surging forward and falling back. As the bus suddenly revved, I lolled back hard and hit a man square in the face. I felt his teeth knocking together on impact. His nose seemed to leave an imprint and I said, 'sorry!' for some reason. I glanced back and he seemed to bob and weave, his back to me as he made his way towards the back of the bus, dazed. A girl slid into my seat to whisper: that dude was sniffing your hair. And it occurred to me that he would have had to be bent over to receive such an inadvertent blow. When I got off on Bernard I made sure I wasn't followed out of the bus by a balding and glistening middle-aged brown man in a red Molson Ex shirt. My hair didn't even smell good.
