27-October-2009 6:32AM

An oscillating furtive set of “looksies” is set upon the entire bus by a yellow slicker exhibitor guy that seems to require this said behavior so much that I am inclined to believe it to be akin to some drug. Whatever it is that forces his eyeball to the severe right corner of his skull’s sockets to that of a quivering strain is both curious and worrisome, since firstly I cannot seem to detect the subject of his interest through standard vector analysis or secondly, to study his face expeditiously enough without he raking his lizard-gaze in my own direction.
Through some additional experimentation (on my part) I am able to discern that there is this unconscious self of his that is able to ascertain even the slightest reconnoiter.

Again, he spins his pupil to the severe corner of his head as I write here, this time for a more-extended period of elapsed seconds to allow a reduction in suspects: “Mr. Clean” seems to have made the short list, as wells as the ex-environmental engineer, of whom respectively sit square and staring forward like an android on standby and the other snoozing precariously over a hardback laying slack-open on her lap. The yellowed slicker exhibitor guy would-be spook picks up his mobile phone quite suddenly and speaks a word or two into the microphone then hangs up. More ethereal examinations ensue, to which his phone is placed quickly against his ear again and some information is conveyed.

This is the last time I witness him with his phone, which had not lasted more than ten seconds and no less than three seconds. He disembarks downtown at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Stewart Street disappearing into the failing night and essentially loosing his two principal objects of significance to his own impending need, whatever that may be.