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Urban Safari(True Story) It was a hot, sticky morning. The kind of day that had me dreading the long walk to work. A mile and a half across asphalt in jeans? I wasn't up for it. I was gonna take the bus, and if that made me a few minutes late clocking in, that was fine. At least my clothes wouldn't be sticking to me. On the bus I find myself in an aisle seat, next to a bent old lady. A harmless-looking bent old lady. Preferable to one of those city-lurking psychos you hear about. Five minutes into the ride, the little old lady reaches into her purse and pulls out a piece of blank white typing paper. Holds it lengthwise, then tears off a small strip of it, as if making confetti. Puts the strip up to the open window and lets it blow out. Then she tears off another strip and repeats the process. Okay, I say to myself. There's obviously some reason why granny is shedding paper. Something complicated, maybe, or something deeply personal. I'd better leave well enough alone and go back to counting the flakes of dandruff on the back of the guy's head in front of me. The old lady takes the last strip of paper and dutifully flicks it out the window. There, I think with an odd sense of relief. Now she's done. But then, without missing a beat, she plunges back into her purse, comes up with a fresh piece of paper, and starts all over again. Sheer curiosity overtakes me. Forgetting everything my mother ever told me about talking to strangers--especially unhinged strangers--, I turn to the paper-ripping senior citizen and speak. "Excuse me, madam," I say. "But why are you throwing little strips of paper out the window?" She turns to me and speaks in such an offhand deadpan that you'd have thought I'd just asked what her favorite color was. "To keep the elephants from following us." So earnest is this old ninny that I actually turn around in my seat, half-expecting to see a herd of elephants stampeding along behind us in hot pursuit. "But madam," comes my oh-so-clever retort. "There aren't any elephants following us." She looks at me as if I'm a hopelessly lost retard and says in a placating voice, "Yes, I know. Works well, doesn't it?" Tomorrow's supposed to be just as hot. But walking is a good exercise, and a little sweat never hurt anybody.
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© Jason Seals