A few weeks ago, I was boarding the bus on my way home from the gym.  A girl stepped on behind me and sat a few seats down from me.  Both of us having presumably recently finished working out, we simultaneously reached into our bags and pulled out perfectly identical water bottles and took a drink.  Halfway through swallowing, our eyes met and we realized the coincidence we suddenly found ourselves apart of.  Most of the other passengers on the bus had all noticed us as well, and I had the strange, yet oddly pleasant experience of being apart of a group of strangers as they all break out into a flurry of half-stifled giggles.

Coming home from class the other day, the bus was very crowded - as it usually is.  I and  a number of other people were standing in the isle, holding onto the handrails, because all of the seats had been taken. Presently a woman boarded the bus with several large parcels and bags.  As the bus started to move again, she struggled to keep control of her burdens.  Seeing this, a young man immediately leaped up and gave her his place.  Not long after this, a pregnant woman also got on.  A young woman then proceeded to give up her own seat for the woman.  I smiled about this for the whole rest of the week.

Yesterday morning on the bus, a man and a woman, a couple, sat down across from me.  The young woman had lovely curly hair, and she was wearing a chai, the Hebrew symbol for life and good fortune. The man was wearing a shirt from the Gainesville Fire Department.  They were extremely affectionate with each other, heads resting on the other, hands clasped together, occasionally kissing.  I don't think they ever spoke a word to one another, though.  At least, not out loud.  They were beautiful together.

I often notice a certain woman during my trips on the bus.  Her hair is strikingly short, and her clothes are eclectic, usually eye-catching, always fierce.  She is beautiful in the sort of way that tempts you to keep taking glances at her, and yet you are a little frightened, for she seems the sort who could kill a man with her stare alone.  Her bag has a very interesting collection of pins on it.  She must have an interesting story - maybe one day I'll get up the courage to say something to her.

Earlier this week I was on my way to class when I saw two little old ladies, best friends or possibly sisters, with matching haircuts, sunglasses, and (the best part) hot pink sneakers.  They were discussing where they might go out to dinner later that day.