Beauty And Beast

He hated riding the bus. It was the lowest form of transportation. People were packed in like livestock. Buses used the same roads that his car used to. They were old and nothing special. There was no allure to riding the bus. It was just a cheap way to get your ass from point A to point B, nothing more.

He won a seat for this morning’s ride. He was longing for something different, when the beauty sat in front of him. She got on at an unusual stop. He could not remember a female joining the fray at that particular juncture.

She was attractive. She knew how to take care of herself. She understood what it took. He smiled at her. She did not see him, because the bus was stopping again and the sudden stop combined with people moving eclipsed his face. The doors opened and the exchange took place.

A boy with unkempt facial hair and a disastrous pony-tail came aboard. The boy was a slob, a slob that did not know anything. He wanted people to perceive him as disinterested, but any man could see through his façade. Disinterestedness meant you did not care about others’ perceptions.

The boy sat beside the beauty. It was time for another smile. But, the beauty began to talk to the beast. She seemed to be enjoying it too. She was enjoying it too much.

It made him angry. A beauty like her needed not converse with a dreg. The boy was insignificant. She was art waiting to be discovered. No, he did not want to discover her, at least not today, but she was being ruined by this worthless fool. His opinion of the boy did not change, but the beauty’s portrait was rapidly depreciating.

The bus stopped. It was his turn to leave the rest of the cattle and head for greener pastures, well, different pastures. It was the beauty’s turn also. The boy had to sit alone and wait.

He let the beauty go ahead of him. She smiled in appreciation; he smiled back.