All entries for Sunday 10 April 2005
April 10, 2005
I had the fortune to ride the same bus with the Tea Lady when getting to work on Saturday. I sat there with my ears erect like those of a nosy bunny's to eavesdrop on her conversation with the Invisible Man. Feeling the familiar nervousness and curiosity, I squeezed The Buddha of Suburbia tight in my hands and let my imagination flow. And suddenly the Tea Lady burst into laughter and wouldn't quit laughing out loud the whole way from Kenilworth to that green field with the charming note "Horse Liveries Available". The bus was quiet. Everyone was thinking their own thoughts and harbouring their own dreams. Everyone except for the Tea Lady. She had a company. And a pretty amuzing one judging by her sincere, open-mouthed laughter.
For a second I found myself envying the Tea Lady: she was never alone. Maybe her loneliness in real life provoked the existence of the Invisible Man in her imagination, but her fears made her happy, although in a reather freakish way. So there she was, riding the bus with someone whose company she enjoyed. And there were us – a bunch of 'down-to-earth' mundane people, squashing their mobile phones, trying to appear busy and wanted.
So, exactly, how crazy is the Tea Lady and how crazy am I for envying her?