1. How much of a dork am I if I fashion some sort of cloth patch/bumper-sticker-looking thing that says “cityofdestiny.blogspot.com” and attach it to the bag I carry around everywhere, as a simple way of promoting my blog, in the hopes that people will see me on the bus or train or at the store or coffee place or wherever, think “She looks interesting, interesting enough that I want to find out more” and then look up the blog? (Not as a way to get dates, mind you, I’ve got a boyfriend. Which doesn’t rule out the prospect of dates, I just point that out to indicate I’m not desperate or anything.)
2. How much of a jerk am I if I label the people I frequently encounter on my most-used bus route and write about them in this blog? They are:
a. Crazy Walkman Guy (an enigma)
b. Homely Female Security Guard (who always chats endlessly with someone or other and can always be heard no matter where you are on the bus and how crowded it is)
c. LOUD GUY (the above section in parentheses also applies to him)
d. Hipster Young Female Borders Employee (who, in fact, gets off at my stop, and has boarded there with me as well, meaning she lives within 2 blocks of me; and she has the exact same Target-bought winter scarf I had before I lost it, which isn’t too remarkable because I’ve seen lots of Chicagoans with that scarf/hat/gloves; who I feel I should get to known because she lives near me AND I go to that Borders a lot, but the one time I was close to her on the bus and she was talking on her cell phone, the conversation was sufficiently loud and inane to those around her [something about tattoos? something about a wedding?] that anyone decent would glare at her hatefully; but I won’t hold that against her)
3. How absurd would it be if the implementation of (1.) leads to the people in (2.) discovering this?
Anyway, Wednesday I was waiting for a bus near my boyfriend’s place—NOT the above-mentioned-but-unnamed bus--alone in the shelter, when LOUD GUY showed up and sat next to me, and I couldn’t avoid talking to him for the first time. Standard waiting-for-bus chatter, and an offer to help me with my milkcrate (declined since it was filled with very lightweight items). I sat near the back door and he took his usual place near the front—then moved to casually sit across from me. I had a book, which I didn’t open on the bus since I was only going 4 blocks, and he said he liked to read a lot. “James Patterson, Danielle Steel.” (A man saying he reads Danielle Steel?!) But this Friday he’s going to go buy some “spiritual books.” Okay. And now he knows my first name and I know his, but I didn’t have to make conversation (as I said, only 4 blocks).
So now I’ve talked to one of the regulars. We’ll see about the others.
Bonus anecdote: the guy who stands in the Wicker Park (Damen/Milwaukee/North) intersection and howls—if you’ve been there much, you know who I mean--has boarded at my bus stop a couple times. He did a few nights ago; I didn’t realize it was him till I got to the back of the bus as he got on, and a man pointed out to his companion, “That’s the guy who howls.” Ah, a local celebrity.