Public Transport Romance

Riding public transport can trigger both gratitude and spine-bending frustration. Does it cost too much? Will a bus or tram ever actually run on time? Is the whole process worth it?

Having been forced into a loving relationship with public transport when I was just seventeen; the bus, train, ferry, tram; these varied options available in South East Queensland are directly responsible for a few day-to-day treasures. I was forced to read books because I don’t like earphones. I was forced to walk to and from available stations, great for maintaining my figure, and I was forced to learn how frustration is only a presence in the mind. You can either lash out and kick a bus seat or zen out and reflect upon the profound privilege to even have such a service available.

When you ride public transport on the GC another gift is presented. Eye Candy. In all shapes and sizes to suit everybody who ever existed. The GC is a sexy place. This is fact and not just a tourist-sold myth. It is real. The catwalk entrance of a gorgeous him or her as they seat for a journey is just awesome. In recent transport adventures, Blankman turned up the tunes of just how romantic this service can get.

I enter the bus at approximately 4pm. I’m neither happy or sad, just neutral and indifferent due to working man’s exhaustion. As the bus pauses in Burleigh central for an exchange of customers a friendly traveller commences a monologue about reasons why she cannot afford her journey to the stern-looking driver.

These situations can be so chilling and pressured, depending on the size of the audience already seated on the bus. This time a little more compassion is present and a sweet voice from the front calls “I will pay for her fare”. In this moment the offer is declined and said free-rider finishes her speech to the driver before taking a seat looking sheepish.

I pause, breathe, and think ‘f**k yeah!’ Strangers looking out for strangers is always a feels-teaser. The moment I witnessed was sweetened significantly by the fact the volunteer rescuer was a gorgeous young lady. Blankman becomes immediately impressed and aroused equalling a great twist of heart and mind strings.

Is it ok to ask her out? Or just ask for her number? Do I seriously just go and sit next to her and introduce myself? The decision that crosses the mind of the average young single male every dam day is presented. I don’t have long to contemplate. My stop is just up ahead. One, two, and three let’s go!

I move in to the seat closest. She is shocked and gasps when I smoothly say ‘hey there’. She giggles. I smile. I know there is an audience of strangers watching this unfold. My next line is, “I thought I might attempt the romantic move of asking a girl for her number”.

She leans back and informs me that my bravery is admired, but my chances are null due to already having a romantic lead in her life. We share a smile, do the handshake and name exchange and I’m gone.

I did it. I ignored the doubting voice insisting the whole experience will leave me feeling foolish. I trusted in public transport and the space for romantic connection and just dived into it. I leapt off at my station with a chin held high and grinned at yet another treasure in the life of a public traveller. Peace.

 

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