Immersed

First, a brief update: I saw the sad couple from yesterday on the bus again today, and they looked marginally happier.

Secondly... phew.

Today's story is set on the #19. It's about a young man, probably in his mid-20s. A short, squat and somewhat frumpy individual, I get the distinct impression that he's on the fringes of most social circles. His hair is too long, but not in a self-confident "I'm a rebel who enjoys seeing people react to my long hair" kind of way. I'd bet that he's just not seasoned enough in practical life experience to know that he needs to decide on his own when to get haircuts. In addition, he has opted out of shaving for probably a few weeks now, and has a diverse assortment of facial hair patches.

He's wearing black slacks and a collared shirt with no tie, neither of which fit him quite properly. I suspect that he's forced to wear business casual attire for work, but would feel much more comfortable in denim or sweatpants. His youth, his general out-of-shape appearance, and his overall projection of a man who doesn't quite know how to be a professional lead me to believe that he's got an entry-level computer job in one of the large office buildings downtown, and that he's only been doing it for a few weeks, or possibly a few months.

He chooses a seat in the front corner of the bus: another symptom of the social misfit. Yet I relate very strongly to this type of individual, so I know exactly why his self-conscious directed him to choose that seat. It's safe. Only one person can sit near him; a normal seat on the bus can have you surrounded on all four sides. There is no intimacy, no risk, no pain. And yet no joy of fellowship, or genuine interaction with a marvelous human soul.

But any sadness he bears is hidden well beneath his stoic exterior. He is distracting himself with his cell phone. He's not talking on it, but rather holding it in his right hand, gazing at the screen. His thumb isn't moving, so he's probably not sending text messages. His head rests on his left hand, the elbow propped up on the side of his seat, and he is hunched over his phone with such intent focus that I find myself tremendously curious: what is he watching? A stored video file, perhaps? There is no sound coming from the phone, and he's not connected to it via earbuds. So if it's a video it must be the kind that doesn't require sound to be enjoyable.

I try not to think too hard about what it could be.

There's my stop.

**As a bonus for my good friend Trebler, below is the engineer's version of this story.**

A young, unkempt office worker is looking at his cell phone while riding the bus.

There's my stop.