I haven't seen Bob since I yelled at him last week, was it? I got to the Transfer Center before my second bus arrived, the bus that brings Bob into my life every morning. I happened to be standing exactly where the doors would open when the bus stopped. I saw Bob sitting in the front of the bus. He apparently saw me. Before the bus stopped, I saw him get up and run to the back door. He practically tripped over himself and everyone else. The second the doors opened, he bolted out the door and around the back. He didn't stop. He didn't wave. He didn't look at me. It appears, loyal readers, I may finally be Bob Free. I think in this one instance, I would prefer to be feared rather than liked.
While I am feeling pretty smug at the moment, I can't rule out the possibility of my spending eternity in bits and pieces in his tote bags. Speaking of his tote bags, y'all...he only had one this morning. Normally he has three or four, thus proving my theory that you can tell how nuts someone is by the number of tote bags they carry on the bus. Maybe the meds are finally kicking in?