Tuesday, May 20, 2008

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Butterflies in your hair on the bus. Déjà Vu


Yes, I admit, not driving. It's something innate in me and no turning back (my father owned a driving school, with that clear let my disability.) Therefore, and considering that I grew up in a family in which a taxi is only used in life threatening (ie, to go to hospital) use the bus.
There I lived
multiple anecdotes
- from running to catch him and get to see as you close the door in his face and goes ..
- Look like a lady, choose the seat in which you want to sit, but none will give three loves: one is high, the other runs counter to the march and one has no window, which "forces" the girl who has the seat he wants to rise.
- Seeing the lineup of "Can not talk to the driver" is missing the tagline, .. unless it is his colleague "
- Stay with stupid face when asked:" One ticket please "(yes, I'ma of polite) and my daughter says, "Mom, two today four years old and already paid "


But the other day I experienced a surreal moment. I sat on a seat. At the next stop was up a couple of 20 years (boy-girl) the bus was full, there was no room, so after looking at the girl sitting .... In my neck, lap or whatever you want to call. I could not believe it!. He looked at her and towards the insane, so ... .. helped by the body serrano I enjoy and the cute baby-doll dress, who had said, "forgive" her away a bit and bring out my purse a laminated bags I always carry (some day I will tell you all that I have in my bag, my friends call him Mary Poppins bag), "is that I faltal pregnancy, return it anywhere" at this point I did a hint of nausea and hand of a saint, rose IPSO FACTO.

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