CrazyAuntPurl: Of knitted hats and HOTT bus drivers

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March 28, 2005

Of knitted hats and HOTT bus drivers

I finished my hat! It is my first official knitted hat, and I do love it. I made this little pom-pom for the top while I was on the bus, but just like that time I made fringe on the bus, it turns out the only thing I had for winding some yarn into a somewhat pom-pom shape was a pack of cigarettes and that seems wrong. But hey, it worked. Then I liked my pom-pom so much all loopy like that that I decided not to cut it and make it fluffy, so it's sort of a flower pom pom, which may be dorky, but hello! How much dorkier can you get than having a pom pom on your hand-knitted pink hat anyway?

But let's get back to the part about the bus.

Usually I take the bus around 7 a.m. each morning. And everyone at the park n' ride is just a working schmoe like your Aunt Purl, and there they all stand politely in a single-file line and wait for the bus and we see each other every morning but we all have the good sense God gave us to act like we don't know each other, because the last time you want to be friendly is at 7 a.m. on the bus.

Anyway.

So I missed my 7 a.m. bus due in part to waaaaaaay too much red wine the night before, and I just barely caught the 8 a.m. bus and as we all stood there in a nice, polite, single-file line I noticed that everyone waiting was female. Every last person. Usually there's half men, half women, and this morning at 8 a.m. there were, like, 20 women all standing there with lipstick on and looking way more awake than the 7 a.m. crowd on their best day. I just thought, wow, who knew what a difference an hour could make in your getup?

Then the bus came. Then the door to the bus opened and suddenly it all became clear ... when what to my wondering eyes should appear but a WAY WAY HOTT bus driver of, like, 22 years.

Now. I was just as surprised as you to discover that there is a HOTT bus driver on this whole planet. All I can think of when I think "bus driver" is Large Marge from the Pee Wee Herman movie. ("Tell 'em Large Marge sent ya!") But this boy is HOTT. He is Latin, and he is young, and he has a shaved head all gangsta style, offset by the two cutest dimples YOU EVER SAW in your whole life. And there was just a whole gaggle of women old enough to be his mother waiting in line to ride his bus to work. If you know what I mean. And I'm sure you do.

So, obviously, I've got to find a way to switch to the 8 a.m. bus. Even though this gets me into downtown perilously around the 9 a.m. mark, which is a little late to arrive at the office in the exciting world of banking. But you know it's just for that extra hour of sleep. I swear. It has nothing to do with anyone and their BIG, STUDLY ARMS or their CUTE ADORABLE DIMPLES. Really. I just need my beauty sleep.

More pictures of my hat now. Because all I can think of are those CUTE ADORABLE DIMPLES, and that will never do. Hat. Think "hat."