A bathing ape.

Damn buses.

“Good morning.”

I flinched, recognizing the voice. Why did he have to show up whenever I was cranky? I glanced up at him and nodded slightly. I didn’t want to be rude, but I wasn’t in the mood to be friendly either. I must be retarded. I wondered what he was doing there if he had a car. He couldn’t possibly be offering me a ride if he didn’t. That would just make him more retarded than I was. Besides, he never gets on the bus.

I looked at my watch. Damn bloody habit. 

“In a hurry again, or you’re just running late?” He was either really dense, or he was on a mission unknown to men. Couldn’t he see that I wasn’t a very friendly morning person? I ignored him and moved slightly to the left. I prayed he would find someone else to annoy. I didn’t want to look at him lest he’d flash me that really cute smile of his again. 

What the hell was wrong with me? He looked good, he smelled good (he was standing close enough) and he seemed nice. Oh right, of course. I was hormonal. Yet again. It had been a really crappy week so far. It wasn’t that anything exceptionally bad happened. I had just been really cranky all week. For reasons I couldn’t put my fingers on. 

“I’ve been missing you badly.”

The thought that had eluded me all week suddenly crossed my mind. That was my heart talking. That must be it. I had been missing my magician all week. I sighed out loud. 

“It saddens me to see someone like you looking so gloomy, so early in the day.” Oh geez. He was really annoying! Couldn’t he see that I just wanted to be left alone with my thoughts? And what the heck does ‘someone like you’ mean? The word ‘twitchy’ came to mind at once. I knew it didn’t make sense (why would he be concerned about a twitchy girl?), but I was beginning to get angry. I arranged my expression into what I hoped was angry, turned slightly so it was just enough for him to see it and said curtly, “bug off, will you.”

“Perhaps you could share what’s troubling you so. Who knows, I just might help.” God, he was irritatingly persistent. 

When I looked up at him, he was smiling. But I was already angry by this point. 

“You. You’re what’s troubling me. So please leave.”

It was all I could do not to yell at  him. He looked taken aback. Probably wasn’t expecting such a vile response from me. But I wasn’t about to let him make me feel bad about it. He was asking for it. He could’ve seen it coming a mile away.  I continued to glare at him until he muttered, “I apologise.”

I apologise! Who says stuff like that around here? Saying “I’m sorry” wouldn’t do for him? Ugh. I could feel my annoyance flaring up and getting out of hands. He started leaving right when I saw the bus coming from around the corner of my block. The bus stopped about 2 feet in front of me and I got on quickly. I flashed my pass at the driver who smiled slightly and then walked briskly to the back of the bus. I took a seat right by the window and for some reason felt compelled to look outside. He was standing there looking at me, giving me a little wave. Holy molly. Was that a guilt trip he was attempting?

Good grief. I’d just about bit his head off earlier, didn’t I. But like I said, he was asking for it. I sighed again. And got lost in my thoughts- my missing magician.

Just as the bus was leaving, I chanced a last glance at him. He was wearing a white shirt with a really curious writing sprawled at the front:

A Bathing Ape.