A Grey Hound

A young chinese-ish guy got on the bus at the first of the casinos. I didn't see him because I had my eyes closed. As I lay on my back, he interrupted my coughing to ask if I was sick. Obviously looking to interact. Obviously I'm sick. I say and look at him. He is upside down and wearing a hat. You smell like alcohol. he tells me. I do. No I don't. I tell him. Well are you drunk? Are you high? I am a little of both. No man, but I wish I was, I say with a bravado I tailored specially for him. Why, you got anything, babe? I don't know why I called him that but it sounded condescending and he seemed to like it so lets go with it. Haha. He laughs nervously, but leans eagerly. What do you like? he asks with a bravado tailored by no one and I sigh and close my eyes again. Nevermind.

States pass

So are you a student? Yeah, I study brains and computers...did you win? I ask this question rhetorically. No winner takes a greyhound bus back from the casinos. No, I lost. He tells me like I didn't know. How much? A lot. Well tell me, if 1 is the amount of money you came with, give me a ratio to it of how much you lost. What? Just tell me how much you lost! I finally pry it out of him: 700 dollars. It's okay, I tell him. We're all poor on the grey hound bus. He laughs like he knows what I'm talking about, and I think he may.

Countries pass

I'm sitting up facing the aisle now-- legs spread to aerate balls I don't have. He's watching me intently but talking carelessly. He doesn't know what naive means. Well what do you do, I ask him, if you don't do anything? I ask because I'm considering that line of work. He says he doesn't know, he just fixes his car and hangs out. He asks if I'm drunk again. I laugh again. I think you may be pretty but it could just be dark in here. He says and puts a hand on my thigh. What are you doing? I ask him. I don't know. His hand slides up. Well, I tell him. You can fondle my leg if you really want, but don't you fucking rape me. He squeezes my knee and continues to grope me like some kind of fifteen year old. It's always the same motion: up squeeze down squeeze up squeeze down squeeze. At each iteration his hand creeps slowly closer to my groin, its presumed destination. He fondles the seam of my pants and I wonder what he gets out of this, when suddenly he is on top of me with hot breath that smells like meat. Does this look like a leg to you? Get the fuck off.

We're in outer space now.

He kind of laughs and calls me a tease. I inform him, rightfully so, that I have been nothing but recklessly up front, and if he wants to go find another leg to grope I think there's an old man sitting behind him. What? He says, looking scared. You don't think he saw us, do you? You mean, saw you. I correct him. Grope my thigh. I add loudly. He hushes me, narrow eyes quickly approaching wide. What. I'm the only audible thing on the bus. I don't care if they know you want to grope my thigh.

Planets float by.

He exhales something between a laugh and a sigh and slouches in his high backed bus seat. Aw babe, don't be like that. I laugh and pat him on the hat.

Or am I floating.

We sit for the rest of the bus ride, talking about things I don't think he understands. No matter, I'm only talking to myself anyways. He offers to let me stay at his house in Everett if I can't get a train home. His offer makes no sense, but I can't remember his name so I give him my phone number. He would later regret that, but for now it seems to make him happy.

What are these?

When the bus stops, I get off it without looking back. I hustle like a Christmas shopper to the Mcdonald's where I ask for and receive water. Turning to leave I am confronted with the greyhound groper. Hey.

They must be stars.

He and I walk outside and I begin to wait for my ride. We make more small talk, until I ask him what he is doing. I'm waiting with you. He tells me. Water drips off the brim of his hat because it is raining. I shiver because it is cold. Standing in the dark outside a bus station, I am waiting for a ride that is late with the kind of guy who likes to feel up girls on Greyhound buses. It is 2 AM and the streets are empty. I coo and thank him for his chivalry

They burn so bright.

I cough my signature cough, the one nursed by a pack a day habit and the cold rain, and stare into the headlights that are approaching us. They belong to me. I turn to him and give a small smile, which he amplifies and returns. Thanks for waiting with me. I give him these words with a one armed hug and disappear into the lights.

These stars, they say--
They'll burn a girl like you right up.