It was a hot, Wednesday in early July. Around town there were still puddles in the streets and on the sidewalks from the storms on the Fourth, limbs and sticks scattered about from the fierce winds. It was sultry and nearly uncomfortable as I waited from the 18 to finally come around. As I saw its large headlights I waved frantically, always afraid they wouldn't see me, or would just leave me. The bus pulled to the curb and I walked my bike out to bring down its bike rack and place my bike in it. As I boarded the bus, paid the fare, and took the white transfer slip I had no idea that simple piece of cheap paper would change my life.
As the bus gave me my transfer slip my green eyes scanned the bus quickly. It was nearly packed. Perfect. Instead of taking one of the free seats I went between the upper seats and lower, grabbing hold of the bar and spreading my feet for stability. It was a strange love I had of this spot. As the bus took off at a too fast speed everyone struggled to remain comfortably upright while my feet shifted and my gripped tightened. I was on a pirate's ship in my mind, a Captain surveying her strange crew and trusting her First to steer for the trip.
While peering through the bus' massive windows I saw a man at the curb, leaning forward to pick something up while lifting one hand high in the air to wave for the bus. He was stunning even from half a block away. My fantasy of the high seas evaporated as a creature of day dreams mounted the bus. So entranced and impressed I pulled out my cell phone, snapped a covert picture, and texted my sister "Obscenely hot man on the bus,".
He was like nothing I had seen before. He was obviously a traveler, hitchhiker really, but not like the dozens, hundreds I'd seen before. He was young, healthy, clean, and attractive. Everything about him was perfect and cried out to me. His hair was put up in dread locks but also looked clean of what I could see of them, held back by a bandana folded into a rectangle around his temples. His skin was smooth and tan, every inch I could see of it was clear and healthy. His shoulders and upper arms had dark freckles scattered over them. The Hiker was barely taller than I was, perhaps 5'7" but used every inch without giving a bit to slouching. When he spoke he showed a hint of perfectly white teeth. When he smiled he blinded me with its beauty and shine.
Even then I was fantasizing about this charismatic man that had suddenly popped into all our lives. The whole bus was focused on him while I thought to myself, "What must it be like to know how sexually appealing you are, to know everyone is looking at you, desiring you, or being envious of you?"
The hiker looked rich to my eyes. His clothes and equipment spoke of it. From head to toe he was well geared for whatever it was he was doing. He wore natural running shoes, the five toed kind that had recently gotten popular. The hiker wore thin khaki pants that he had tied up in knots about three quarters the way up his calves, just below his knees. His legs were quite hairy with dark brown, curly hair. A well fitted black tank top was all he wore for a shirt. Around his neck a black necklace with some kind of pendant attached to it. Dog tags and tiny dagger it looked. His bandana was olive green and beige, it seemed all his clothes were olive green and beige. The pack he carried was massive almost as long as his torso, but wider than his slim waist. It looked very well put together, with strong stitching I could see from a distance. When he took his pack off his back it had left red marks in his tanned shoulders, the weight must've been great to dig in so deep.
I was quiet, watching, feeling like I was under a spell as he moved and spoke. The Hiker was also standing rather than taking a seat. As he spoke to the driver to find directions to I-94 and the fastest bus there, my eyes were roving over his body. His legs were strong and curvy, longer than I would've thought someone around my own height would have. Sadly, his butt was slightly flat but still looked amazing in his khakis. As he leaned back against the seats and spread his feet to gain balance his khakis tightened slightly around his thigh and my mouth dried. I had never known such lust up to that point.
The ride was fast then, shooting up 13th avenue and I felt despair setting in. Soon our journey together would end without a word passing between us. Stopping at a red light, he seemed to notice I was staring at him. He looked back at me and I looked out the window. In its reflection I could see a smirk form on his lips and when he looked away, I went back to letting my eyes feast as my mind concocted fantasies. He knew I would because as soon as I looked at him, he caught my eyes through his shades and smiled that smile. I blushed furiously but didn't look away that time.
