Friday, October 28, 2022


Catching the bus back yesterday there were a whole passle of folks waiting, mostly oldsters with canes, but also a few others. Including a nice young lady with a blue miniskirt and little red guard pigtails. Whom I would have let on ahead of me -- one should ALWAYS let young ladies carrying pumpkins on first, that's a rule I just made up -- but she entered via the rear door. Anyway, finished the last pipe smoke of my days-off on the front steps. An elderly white man finished his smoke at the bus stop, and slowly walked past me, taking occasional sips of a canned cocktail.

I'm not sure what I think of ambulatory drinking.
Even if old, bored, and alone.
It seems ... wrong.

Maybe men like that need young ladies with pumpkins. I don't know, it might brighten their lives. It seems to me that young ladies carrying pumpkins are a very good thing, and there aren't nearly enough of them.

They should all flock in droves to my neighborhood.
I say this out of the kindness of my heart.
I do not have an agenda.

Cake. I could offer them cake. Young ladies love cake!
Sadly, I did NOT have a chance to fully take in the legs under the miniskirt. But from what little I did see, I shall assume that they are fine. It seemed a little chilly to wear so short an outfit, and unsurprisingly I myself was not wearing a skirt. And with my legs that was probably a good thing. Although if my apartment mate's ex-boyfriend were on the bus I would have, just to make him jealous. For some queer reason he envied my good legs.

Not something I could see myself. They're unremarkable and sort of functional. They reach all the way to the floor. And locomote when required. But I've always believed that unless one is a young fellow, an athlete, or a young lady carrying a pumpkin, one's legs should be invisible and not on public view.

In answer to the woman at the vegetable store, no, I did not study on the mainland, I've never even been there. But thank you.

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