To Be Counted Less Than First in a List of Priorities

Silhouetted against a backdrop of dim ambiance, the Ponytail Man stares straight at me as I stand to wait for the bus. He faces his whole body in my direction, as if this was a requirement for total concentration on lunatic-observation. Most I must believe would become self-conscious with this kind of onslaught of unreasonable and freakish examination, but with my own mind curiosity is the only feeling to make itself known.

Just as I was conjuring my counter-observance tactics at this rather odd Ponytail Man, he performs an awkward and rather robotic flourishing about-face with haphazard deliberation. I almost choked out a laugh as a result, but quashed the urge right away. I realize he is doing this because the first distant groans of the bus can be discerned, and apparently the apt ascertainment of the inevitable arrival of the bus takes precedent in Ponytail Man's internal list of priorities.

Such as it is I follow the adherence to utter neutrality, neither here nor there.