Writing On the Bus

I'm sitting on the bus, on my way to class. My notebook is open and my pen is lazily scrawling across the page. It's a journal entry. Not the "Dear Diary" kind; one for class. It's supposed to be about my views of death. You know - what I think about it, how do I see death, what are my experiences - those kinds of things. I've actually had quite a few experiences with death, but I'm not really interested in writing this entry. I have a few sentences written but I am horribly bored with this assignment. The bus comes to a stop and I look up to see who is getting on. Perhaps one of the passengers will be a great diversion. Ah, here is the perfect person. A man stumbles onto the bus with four jumbo-size garbage bags. They are full of clothing and various objects. I start to giggle as I watch him trying to maneuver the bags so he can actually get on the bus. He finally squeezes past the door and flings himself and his bags onto the nearest seat. He is actually taking up three seats with his stuff. He's piddling around trying to find bus fare and then attempting to keep his bags from falling off the seat. All the while he is talking with the bus driver about how hard it is to get around the city and he wished there were easy methods of transportation. The bus driver is smiling and responding as best he can to the man's ramblings. He finally asks the man if perhaps it wouldn't be easier to get around if he didn't carry so much stuff with him. The man stops digging in his pockets for a minute to look at the driver - "So much stuff? This is just a few things I carry with me so they won't get stolen. The rest is back at home." The driver, looking a bit surprised but trying to be understanding asks the man where home is. The man replies that is back at the stop where the bus picked him up. He then goes on to describe his home at the bus stop ending with a description of the bench there that he as found to be the most comfortable one in town. Having finally found his money, he gets up to pay the fare and just as he does so the driver slams on his breaks to avoid missing the next stop. the man flies forward, his bags fall off the seat and spill open on the floor. Cursing and yelling the man picks himself up, pays the driver and returns to his seat to collect his things. By this point I am trying desperately to keep from bursting out laughing. This man is hilarious to watch. Then an idea hits me. I return my attention to my journal entry and begin to write about the happenings on the bus. Before I know it I have a whole page and a half about the man on the bus and his interactions with the bus driver. When I'm done I add a small note letting my teacher know I am sorry the entry does not fulfill the assignment but I was unavoidably distracted. A week later I get the assignment back with a note from the teachers: your distraction was most amusing to read!