Author Note: This was supposed to be a light hearted male fantasy. I am sorry how it turned out. I am sure there are errors, but I can't bear to read it again.
*****
Another damn bus. How many buses can you look at in one day? I really hate coming to these expos. I never really liked talking with salespeople and transit salespeople were the worst. They know you have tax dollars to spend and they would love to help you spend them. I had a managing director to answer to, so I slogged through another bus listening to the moderately attractive sales lady describe their latest low floor model.
I plopped down into one of the passenger seats while I listened to her drone on. The seat was fairly comfortable which surprised me. I looked closer at the one next to me and felt the cushion and soft fabric that cradled my butt so well. Inwardly I smiled, these wouldn't last a year in real use. Transit passengers drag all sorts of items across the seats even if you don't consider the intentional damage. The sales lady saw the concern in my eyes.
"We would never recommend these seats for production Mr. Prichard." She smiled which brightened up the bus a bit. "We have a large assortment of more durable seats. We partner with Freedman and build to suit your needs." Of course they do. I was just wondering why they thought it a good idea to show what we would never buy. I nodded my head so that she knew she wouldn't have to continue down that line. Unfortunately, it gave her an opening to discuss all the other partners her company works with. She rattled off GPS enunciator and signage companies, automatic people counter systems, smart fare box builders and a diatribe of other big name transit companies.
I tried not to yawn. Everyone on the bus already knew each and every company she mentioned. It's not like there is a big list of companies who build GPS enunciators for transit vehicles. We all politely let her drone on. I had been on my feet for the better part of four hours. It was starting to take its toll so I stayed in the seat and pretended I was interested by moving my eyes from feature to feature as the saleswoman pointed them out. My mind quickly wandered from the mundane sales pitch.
How did I ever end up spending twenty years in public bus company? I know I didn't grow up thinking; I want to work for a bus company. I just sort of evolved into the position and now I'm stuck. I know so much about public transportation that my work has become trivial. Problems that used to floor me now only produce a chuckle. I get paid too much to start over somewhere else and the retirement plan is pretty lucrative. It hasn't been a bad life. My wife, Mary, and I live in a nice house and never had to worry about a paycheck or me losing my job. My life just lacks that pizzazz I imagine other jobs must have.
I was busy thinking of pulling out my phone to check what the market was doing when the entire interior of the bus changed. A woman in a flowing black dress entered the double side door of the vehicle. She had silky long black hair that dropped straight down her back just like my wife's. She was wearing a pair of moderate high heels with straps around her tanned ankles. The heels stretched her perfect calves before they disappeared behind the silky dress. The dress accented her curves from her slim waist up over her hidden breasts. Her collar was too high to allow for viewing of the wonderful cleavage I knew was there. She had wonderfully bright eyes and used some kind of lipstick that glossed her lips without being out right shiny. The woman reminded me of my wife only, a bit younger and a lot more voluptuous. I realized I was staring and quickly moved my eyes back to the fold away wheelchair positions the saleswoman was demonstrating.
It was very difficult using my peripheral vision to eye the beautiful woman as she came down the bus aisle. I am married and would never risk my marriage with an affair, but I was also a man. God, did I want to study this girl. The transit business has its share of pretty women, but this girl was a step above. She looked like she should be working at some Manhattan law firm or at least playing a lawyer on TV. I noticed that some of the other gentlemen on the bus were also no longer interested in the sales pitch.
I had no idea why I became a bit nervous as she came toward me down the aisle. She reached my seat and suddenly spun around to sit in the seat directly across the aisle from me. Her dress lightly whipped across my arm as she spun and caused an involuntary shiver to run up my spine. I enjoyed the feeling and felt like an idiot for enjoying it. Even if I was in the market, this girl was way out of my league.
I looked over, in reflex to her dress flourish, as she sat down. She gave me an easy smile and reached down to massage her lovely ankle. I gave her my best stupid moron smile. I never knew how to act in front of women who could make men drool.
"Picked the wrong shoes." She whispered. I looked at the seats behind us and found them empty. I couldn't believe she was addressing me. I kind of wished me wife was here so I would have a buffer. I didn't know what to say or if I should say anything at all. I only knew what my wife wanted to do after a day in heels. Using my toes, I pressed against the heels of my shoes and slipped them off. She saw me since she was concentrating on her own ankles and gave me a little chuckle and removed her heels. I smiled a little less moronically, happy I could help. It felt good letting the blood have more freedom in my feet anyway. Our eyes returned to the saleswomen demonstrating the wheelchair lift system.
The saleswoman grabbed the cabled lift control and pulled it outside of the vehicle to continue with the demonstration. Most of the people followed. I stayed and continued to flex my socks. My new barefoot friend stayed with me. I looked over and decided to start a conversation. Because we shared sore feet I wasn't as nervous.
"First Expo?" I guessed that it was since she was the only woman not wearing something akin to tennis shoes.
"Yes" She smiled at me which was prettier than I expected. "I didn't think it was going to be a marathon." She held out her hand. "I'm Cathy by the way." I took her hand but didn't really shake it. It was more of a firm caress.
"Doug Prichard." I responded. Her hand was as soft as it looked. My wife's hands were just as soft. I was getting kind of homesick. I realized I was still holding her and when she glanced down at my grip. I awkwardly returned it to my side.
"Are you in the market for buses?" She was still smiling even though I practically ripped my hand away.
"No, our fleet still has seven years left." I continued unable to break my eyes from hers. "Just trying to stay current." I returned her smile since hers wouldn't quit. "Are you in the market?"
"Heavens no! I'm new just trying to get the lay of the land." She started to put her heels back on which broke our eye contact. "All of this is new to me. I never thought transit was so complex." I guess to the layman, public transit was a simple operation. It truth, it was horribly complex and the Feds keep making it more so.
"Well don't worry, it grows on you after a while." I wasn't sure if she intended to stay in the field. If she asked I would tell her to run away now and never look back. She a started on her second shoe.
"Doug, I am kind of on my own here. Would you mind joining me for lunch?" She glanced up while strapping on her last heel. You have to understand that this was a really strange situation for me. Women that looked like Cathy were never interested in eating lunch with me even when I was at my peak. It was completely unexpected and I answered like an idiot.
"I'm married." I said before I realized it implied I thought she was interested in more than sandwich. She laughed.
"Happily I hope." Her smile was contagious. "Your lucky to have someone here with you."