Strangers

Bitch in Heat

It was five minutes until the departure of my usual bus and I found myself running behind, as per custom. Foot traffic in Nashville was abnormally heavy and despite the heavy clunking noise of my combat boots, people didn’t seem to pay any mind to the fact that I was attempting to weave and bob around them. They were all trapped in their own fantasy land that didn’t include the 5’6” blonde in black yoga pants and a tank top.

“Well, fuck me!” I huffed, picking up the pace as I saw that my bus was stopped and loading passengers. Reaching the door as it began to close, I grabbed it, took a great leap upon the stairs, and swung my body around and inside. The driver wasn’t happy with the ninja move I’d just made, but it wasn’t the first time and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

                Unfortunately, in the process, I managed to skip three of the four steps, tripping on the final one and falling sideways into a slim gentleman’s lap. He seemed undeterred by the action, not even flinching; it was only when I realized I had landed face first in his crotch that I began to freak out.

“Oh, sweet Jesus! I-I…” I stuttered as I leaped up and sat down in the only available seat on the bus, across from him, “I am so sorry. I-I didn’t mean to… I mean, I was trying to get on the bus before it left and I just… Ninja’d…”
“Right into my crotch,” he said with a smile. “It is perfectly okay. I know you didn’t mean it… Unless you did mean it, then by all means, continue.” The man winked and I proceeded to blush even more, my face felt like fire, “I’m only joking, darling. My name is Tom.” He outstretched his hand, as if to shake mine. I only stared at it blankly, still startled by what had just happened.

“I’m Valerie. You’re not from around here, are you?”

Tom cackled withdrawing his hand, “Ehehehe! How could you tell? It couldn’t be the accent, could it?”

“Well, I mean, obviously you’re not and yes, it is the accent. You’re from England or someplace like that. You just have a really nice accent, it’s different than the hick-ish twang everyone around here has.”

“Surely you aren’t talking about that darling twang you have,” Tom replied as he cocked an eyebrow, “because I think it’s wonderful. It’s different.”

“If you had it, you wouldn’t think so,” I sighed and looked away. I spent most of my time trying to hide my southern accent and had become fairly proficient at it, but certain words were troublesome.

Tom smirked and gave me the best imitation of a southern gentleman he possibly could, “Now darlin’, I think you sound absolutely beautiful! And in truth, if we could trade accents, I totally would.”

I stuck my hand out and giggled, “Tradesies then?”

“Deal,” Tom laughed, returning to his normal British timbre as he shook my hand.

                We continued our banter until the bus was nearly empty. I found out that Tom was in town temporarily for a job and was an actor, though he wouldn’t tell me exactly what he was in. He looked a tad familiar at that point, though I couldn’t place his face exactly. I told him I was a veterinarian and had a real soft spot for dogs. I threw in as an odd side note that I would probably be a crazy dog lady when I got old. Tom just laughed at me hysterically. He thought I was kidding.

There only a couple of stops left before it repeated its route. “Here’s my stop,” I mumbled sadly as the brakes screeched to a halt.

“Mine too, oddly enough. Wanna walk together?”

“Actually I usually jog home from here,” I sighed. “I have to walk through a rough part of town to get to my apartment and the quicker I get there, the better off I am. Plus, my dogs are waiting on me.”