Ugh. Through no solicitation on my part I got myself one of those hated “snugglers” that I have talked about many a time, too many times to count.
I have one of the classic variety: homely, large and bulbous, trash romance novel reader, scraggly mousy hair, dressed in powder-blue fleece, then last but not least smashes into my left side allowing absolutely no escape for my thigh so that it must inadvertently adhere to her own through involuntary hydrogen bonding. Odious to the last, her arm even makes it over into my so-called personal space while turning pages in her book: EVERY.SINGLE.TIME
-And when this happens her elbow brushes, scrapes, presses, and rubs against my upper arm and shoulder.
-And then don’t even talk about when the bus turns to the left, thusly eliciting the Coriolis acceleration which harnesses her colossal mechanical property of inertia and ends in the execution of Newton’s First Law of the bus fuselage canceling normal force; myself as the rigid spring/damper system betwixt this execrated arrangement.
Bah!
4 comments:
Poor gal. Looking for love in all the wrong places.
But as they say, the quickest way to a guy's heart is an elbow to the chest while turning pages.
The worst is when anonymous people touch you... it's the most nauseating experience. Bless you for giving the world bus stories! Looking forward to reading up on them.
love ur blog!
Dude, don't think we've forgotten about you. Happy New Year.
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