i write because i'm happier when i write. not because i'm a good writer.

-shanita john-

Humans are disgusting.

Last night was cold, this morning was cold. I was dodging ice patches and hairballs on my way to catch the 8:20 A.M. bus downtown while wondering aloud why it wasn't spring yet. You might think it strange to mutter loudly into one's scarf in public, but I find it comforting. It clears the mind, and keeps the crazies at bay.

Anyway, I am inside the bus shelter now, hiding from the cold air. Normally, I stand outside the shelter chastising traffic with my presence, but I'm just now getting over the sniffles so I decide to take a chance on the public transportation hut. This decision quickly reminds me why I often avoid these friendly-looking cesspools.

...this decision quickly reminds me why I often avoid these friendly looking cesspools.

I huddle behind the plexiglass and wait. Brr. Cold. Then for some reason, I look down at my feet. I'm standing on something like a candy wrapper. It's bright red and shiny and because I like shiny things I look a little closer to examine what flavor it is. It reads:

LifeStyles. Assorted Colors. Lubricated.

I snicker. Am I ten years old? No, but it's still funny. I imagine it must have fallen out of someone's pocket or bag. Though it's just an empty wrapper I picture someone's twinge of concern to find out they dropped it. Yes, it's random to find a condom wrapper at a bus stop, but not unheard of, right? Okay, jokes over.

I'm about to move my attention back to the traffic but something else stops me. "Is that ... nuh-uh ..." To my horror, my eyes move about three feet over and there it is. Red. Twisted. Elongated. Used. Its contents in a stiff wad frozen to the concrete.

Sweet Jesus.

. . . my eyes move about three feet over and there it is. Red. Twisted. Elongated. Used.

It didn't fall out from a bag, I now realize. It was . . . utilized. There. In that bus stop. Where I was standing? Probably not, but... I cringe, anyway, tell myself something rational.

My bus comes. I leave. I disinfect. Humans are disgusting.

It's not you, it's me.

He popped the question.