This afternoon I was riding the bus home and reading a book, which today happened to be "One Kiss from You" by Christina Dodd; the sun was out, the bus was packed with a variety of folks, and after some time reading I happened upon a steamy scene.
Which of course all romance novels have, but it's sorta wierd reading one on the bus because there's all these people around and I start to wonder if someone is reading over my shoulder or do they suspect that I am reading porn? Does it show on my face?
And then I just got distracted by the passengers around me, so I put the book away since I was getting embarrassed anyhow. There was this immensely fat guy sitting across from me, reading a Louis L'Amour novel, and he was wearing a really grimy red baseball cap with a brass pin in the shape of an alligator. Every once in a while he would tell his kid sitting next to him to be quiet--I'm not sure why, since the kid wasn't really making any noise. He was about 7 or 8, and he had a small toy revolver that made a loud click when you pull the trigger, and he kept shooting himself over and over and over: in the side of the head, in the heart, the eye, the neck. I think he might have been bored. Dead bored.
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