Everyone I meet lately is named Jess(i)e.


“You’re bouncy. Good day at work?” Jessie is a bus driver. He’s not MY bus driver, at least not since the first day I took the train/shuttle bus to work, and ended up on the wrong bus. Not that it stopped him from driving me to my work, because a.) I lead a charmed existence, and b.) Jessie is a very nice man.

“Well, no. Horrible. I spent most of it on the phone with the city parking administration office.

“Oh dear.”

“Yeah. Filed two appeals, wrote one request for a hearing with a judge and spent like an hour on hold. Even they know it’s bull, so they’re coaching me through all the hoops, but seriously, it’s amazing how much work I have to do, and money I have to pay, to prove I did nothing wrong. Oh yeah, and I did my job. But you know what? I did everything I could do, and so now I’m done with that. And you have cds for me. So yes. I’m bouncy.”

“Yes. And here’s Bonnie Raitt and Neil Diamond. Anything else you want?”

“Got any Peter Gabriel?”

“Oh course. See you tomorrow.”

If only everything in life was so easy. Every morning Jessie asks me if I want any cds, and he brings them to me. Because he has everything. For some reason I think this is related to these two teenage boys that were sitting in the canyon my train runs through. They lit up and waved at the train, as if that’s all they’d been waiting for. I waved back as fast as I could and I saw the dark haired one catch me out of the corner of his eye and poke the blond one. The last I saw they were both smiling.

Maybe we make it all too complicated.


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