ROUTE 197

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When love is not madness, it is not love

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NEXT STOP: DISGUST .

I was sitting in one of those single seats that are usually always taken whenever you enter a bus. In my case a man dressed in a light blue dress shirt decided to plop in the single seat in front on my own.

Now like any normal citizen, I ignored the man, simply looking out the window until IT happened.

IT, being him scratching the back of his head.

I know what you're thinking: guy scratching his head, so what?

But this guy was different.

He had dandruff.

REAL bad dandruff.

So as I sat there, staring out the window, this man decides that the back of his head (where most of the dandruff was) needed to be scratched, thus ensuing my black jeans to slowly be covered with dandruff like grass when it snows.

Only that analogy made it seem less gross then it actually was.

"Ugh….so….itchy." The man said, more dandruff falling.

Eff my life.

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NEXT STOP: ANNOYANCE .

I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate— just then another piece of dandruff landed on my lap from the man scratching the back of his head furiously in the seat ahead of me.

This has been going for about 2 minutes. Did I mention I was going to be on this bus for about thirty?

"Oh, my…god." I brushed the piece away with my notebook, "Gross…"

I looked around the bus. Seat, I silently prayed, Seat. Seat. I need a new seat!

Then, as if my prayers were answered, a free seat appeared. Not realizing who was seated next to it, I hurriedly sat in it, my other seat quickly being taken afterwards.

Sucker.

I looked at the man next to me, well okay, stared (had to make sure he wasn't a like Dandruff Guy.) He was dressed in a black shirt, with long hair. I didn't see any signs of dandruff so I relaxed.

Until he spoke.

"Reason," he said. "Why you're staring at me, miss?"

"Sorr—Nagihiko!"

"Hello~!" He grinned, poking me.

"Don't touch me," I slapped his hand away.

Here's a tip for all you bus-goers, when you've been taking the bus as long as I have you learn some things that'll help you in life. Like, when choosing to sit beside either a man with a terrible case of dandruff or Nagihiko, always choose the man with dandruff.

I look back at the man with the terrible case of dandruff I was once sitting behind. Then I look back at Nagihiko sitting next to me.

Always choose the man with dandruff.

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NEXT STOP: LOVE .

"God, I should've sticked with dandruff guy." I muttered.

Nagihiko wouldn't shut up.

Seriously, I've been sitting next to him for....like what? Three minutes, maybe? And the guy was already in the midst of telling me his life story.

Did you know, as a child, he had a stuffed duck named Paul?

I sure didn't.

I blew some non-existent hair out of my face, and stared at him. As he blabbered on, or as he might've call it "talked" I couldn't help but notice how much better-looking he looked. He was….cuter, than before…

Okay. Hold up. Did I just call Nagihiko, CROSS-DRESSER Nagihiko….cute?

"—ma? Rima?"

"What?"

"You've been staring at me, not responding for four minutes. I thought I had to do CPR or something."

"That's when someone isn't breathing, genius. Plus, if I was un-reponsive for 4 minutes and I wasn't breathing, then I'd be brain dead by then."

"…."

"Nagihiko? Hey, you aren't talking what's wrong?"

"I'm holding my breath."

"Why?"

He winked at me. "So you can perform CPR on me, of course."

Pointless, I know. But this was written in like, 6 minutes. Total accomplishment for me!

Review? :)