Putting On The Ritz

Two young men, no older than 25, are standing at the back door of the bus.

They are well-dressed: suits, ties, clean shaven, and holding some papers and pamphlets. At first I think they're Mormons on a mission but realize that they are dressed too colourfully to be Mormons.

The thin one is wearing a black, pinstriped suit with a baby blue shirt and baby blue tie. His blonde, "emo" hair is in desperate need of a trim. His cleanly shaven face reveals two things: one, that his blade is dull (he has a few nicks) and two, his acne.

The chubby one, with short, wavy black hair, is also in need of a new razor blade. He is wearing a plain black suit but a vivid burgundy shirt and vivid burgundy tie. If they swapped ties, they'd coordinate with each other better.

The pamphlets they're holding look like handouts from a seminar of sorts, which also may explain why they are dressed up. These two bear themselves like they don't dress up a lot, and don't like it when they have to.

Baby Blue drops his pen, which presumably came with the handout. "You dropped your pen," says Vivid Burgundy. "Yeah, I don't care. I have a ton of pens."

It looks like a nice pen. But it's right at their feet. I can't exactly get out of my seat and pick it up.

They are standing right at the back door, so blatantly taking up the space of any passers-through that they actually open the doors for people disembarking. Eventually a double seat opens up and they take it, but they would still notice if somebody stooped to retrieve that pen.

Maybe if they get off before me, then I can get it.

--

There's my stop.
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