I'm in a brand new bus shelter waiting for my connecting bus home. It, like the other new shelters I've seen, has an uncomfortable-looking perforated stainless steel bench.
That'll be nasty cold in winter, I think to myself. Who on earth would want to sit on those? But then I overhear a young lady, sitting on the bench on this nippy Autumn evening, exclaim to her standing friend, "They're hot!"
I look a little more closely and see that there is an electric heater running the full length underneath the bench. Being a man who enjoys warmth, I try it out - it is indeed comfortably warm, a stark contrast to the sharp twang of the October air. I find myself relaxing, leaning back against the warm glass wall, the tension of a full day and a long walk slipping away as the heat radiates up my spine.
Ah, phooey. There's my bus.
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Everywhere you look, there is a story. This blog was an experiment in storytelling, drawn from true life in the most mundane setting known to Western civilization: the city bus. I no longer post here, but am leaving it active for posterity's sake.
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