OK, so I’ve always been kind of clueless when it comes to, well, interaction with other human beings, especially interaction of the romantic kind. For some reason (read: I am weird and I look kind of, well, not your usual standard of pretty), I get hit on very rarely. So, naturally, I don’t always know what to do or how to know that someone is actually interested in me. A most frustrating thing happened today – a perfect showcase of this deal.
I was going back to my place after spending a few days with parents. I had to take the bus from my town to the city. And the bus driver was, like, the cutest bus driver ever. Seriously, people as cute simply don’t become bus drivers. He even dressed like no bus driver ever dresses (read: actually nice). He also seemed nice and funny (obviously new to the job). I didn’t pay too much attention to him all the way to the city. But then, as we finally reached the station and everyone was getting out of the bus, it seemed that he wanted to talk to me. I was totally unsure, ’cause it was like he suddenly lost his ability to speak, or was just embarrassed with all of the other passengers around or something, it was totally weird. But here’s the kicker. Normally I would’ve considered hanging back or something – to wait and see whether he was going to actually say something. BUT. I had been wanting to pee so terribly for like an hour, one of the most terrible hours (laugh if you want), so much, that I thought ‘screw it, I’m not waiting for you to work up your courage or something’. And I left.
I guess I could’ve said something, but I didn’t know what. I wasn’t even sure what this whole thing was about. I chickened out, but so did the cute driver. And I wanted to pee so badly. I guess this shows that Maslow was right and that indeed physiological needs have to be satisfied first, before we can even think about things like going on a date. Darn bodily functions.
However, the thing that annoys me most in this story is that I suppose I’ll never know what the cute driver was up to. And I hate not knowing things (all sorts of things), especially when I could find out. I wonder why stuff like this can’t ever be clear (Make a note: ‘always make unclear situations clear and don’t chicken out from now on’; will have to see how that goes). And I hate that he was so cute and seemed so nice. Darn!
Hoping that at least someone will be amused or entertained by this story (because I couldn’t think whom I wanted to call and share this with),