Witnessing rituals and other random things.

I hurriedly stepped out the door of my apartment building this morning a little after 5:15am. Looking down the street to my left and my right, I began walking across the street as I noticed no cars were coming towards me. As I walked between two parked cars and stepped onto the sidewalk, I turned left towards the bus stop. Shortly after making the turn, however, I was distracted by something a little unsettling...or at least to the images it then conjured in my imagination.

There is a former apartment building recently turned condo, but while it is in the process of being fully rehabbed and transformed condo-style, to outside onlookers it appears empty under lock and key. This is why when I approached near the front door of the building on my short walk to the bus stop, what I saw slightly gave me the creeps in wonderment. Resting on the ground right in front of the door was a medium sized black leather semi-professional looking bag or purse. The zipper was fully open and while I could not make out the inside contents, the bag appeared full from the outside. I spotted a few pieces of paper spilling outside the outer edges of the bag. The bag looked unisex, so I couldn't tell if the bag belonged to a man or a woman. Two to three feet away from that was a black hooded sweatshirt, carelessly sprawled in a disheveled heap. There didn't appear to be any signs of struggle to indicate an attack had taken place, but nevertheless, I instinctively turned around to look for any possible people near me....walking, running, or lurking....but no one. I unwittingly start concocting crime scenes in my mind. Stop, Katie! I do....but only because there are new eye-catchers in my midst.

Every time I step onto the #156 bus, I notice the baseball cap wearing bus driver's (who reminds me of Jeff Foxworthy) eyes are looking down at me....not at my face....but what appears to be my shoes. As I am all about comfort, I wear my comfy sneakers, flip flops or any other similar comfortable kinds of shoes on my way to work. Once at work, I do the switcheroo into my slip-on high heels. Perhaps I just look tacky with my professional work attire and the temporary comfort shoes in contrast. In any case, I have done it numerous times by now. One would think Jeff Foxworthy Bus Driver would be used to it by now....yet every morning, it's like he's seeing it for the first time. I've wanted to tell him "I change the shoes when I get to work ya know..." but I just walk on and sit in my usual seat.

Just as JFBD gives me the 'eye' of the shoes on a regular basis, I too curiously 'check out' one particular man now and again. A regular passenger who gets on at the Stockton stop just past Clark and Diversey, if all an individual could see was this man, one might wonder if it was a day that keeps repeating itself like Bill Murray in "Groundhog Day." A rotund man who appears to be in his 50's, he dons the seemingly same outfit AND navy blue jacket every day. It doesn't stop there. EVERY day when he sits down in his seat, he goes through the same little idiosyncratic ritual. First, he fidgets from side to side, perhaps to refrain from sitting on his jacket too tightly. With both hands, he pulls down the front of his jacket nearest the zipper. He brushes his right hand across the top of his soft, wispy black hair and shakes his head a bit as it falls in place to his "just right" parting of the hair. Much better, he appears to be thinking. He looks settled. He closes his eyes for a moment. The ritual has ended.

I am fascinated, no matter how many times I witness this. And this is just him sitting on the bus. Just imagine what rituals he has going on at work, during mealtimes, home, bedtime. Ok, I'll stop, but only at the risk of sounding like his new stalker.