Girl on a bus

I have a confession to make. Yesterday's blog was inspired by a girl. A girl on a bus. Corny I know, but true.

With trackwork forging ahead once again on my train-line, I was forced to 'bus it' into town last weekend. Not that I am complaining; not this time. The whole incident only lasted about 2 minutes and 30 seconds... and that is part of this tale's tragedy. I had managed to secure a seat for myself, found a good playlist on my ipod and was staring listllessly out the window when a gorgeous young lady sat next to me. Three thoughts immediately went through my head.

1. I never want this trip to end. 
2. What a shame we are both listening to music. Now I'm never going to get a conversation started with her. 
3. Points 1 and 2 will make a good impetus for a blog

Obviously my third thought proved to come true - twice in fact. My second thought also proved to come true. We had fallen victim to one of my great loves: music. Or to be more precise, mp3 players.

Now even if I was a pro at flirting and didn't actually find videos like this (just a little) enlightening, there was still an unfortunate physical divide between us. I like to call them headphones. 

There's no denying I absolutely love my ipod. I feel lost without it. But have you ever noticed that (with the exception of Garden State) no films ever have their protagonists or love interests listening to music players? In fact, the plot for Sliding Doors would have never progressed beyond the train scene.Gwyneth Paltrow and Jack Hannah would have just sat next to each other; Jack humming away to 'The Beatles' (or 'The Foetals'), Gwyneth brewing over 'Enya' or some other depressing crap. Why? Because mp3 players are double edged swords: an escape route when the need comes, but also antisocial buggers that can starve us of human contact.

  
Sometimes they can work to our advantage... when some sleazy bastards is trying out his latest pickup line on you or some kid wants to tell you all about his new pet hampster, but for the most part we have missed many an opportunities to meet new people. 

Today the extent of our interchange is normally a simple nod or polite smile while we enjoy Triple J's hottest 100 or MIX's love song dedications. Unless we want to live dangerously and take our headphones out when we see that special someone, the opportunity for us to 'casually' start up a conversation has been substantially reduced. 

In this case, for example, 'the girl on that bus' remains 'the girl on that bus'. I never did remove my headphones. And while she has made good fodder for my blogs, she has also suffered from a missed opportunity... she has fallen victim to my great taste in music.

Poor girl.