From the Cobwebs: Virgin Man

Beforehand, beforehand note:  This was written in 2007-- I believe on the trip I took to SE Texas for Doug and Alison's wedding! Beforehand note: I wish this was just some flight of my really big imagination, but alas!!! the following "story" truly happened to me...in real life...about a month ago. I can laugh about it now!! You can laugh, too, ifn' you wanna. :)

I was a little apprehensive when I arrived at the greyhound station. Would I get a good window seat? or would I have to sit in an aisle seat next to someone creepy? It turns out I got both!!

I was so excited to find a window seat (and it's accompanying aisle seat) empty near the back of the bus. I settled myself in and took out a crossword puzzle book. Turns out I was twice lucky cuz I had bought a ticket on an Express Bus!! YAY!! (An aside for those of you who aren't "in the know" about Greyhound, may I suggest that you ALWAYS choose an Express Bus? They make very few stops, thereby making your journey much shorter.)

So, I'm working on my crossword puzzle, and listening to the other passengers board. I noticed one tall man, black and about 49 or 50 years old board the bus. He passed me and went 3 seats past me to ask if he could join a family in the very back. He was denied. Thankfully, although he stopped at my seat momentarily, he went on and sat with the gentleman directly in front of me. I said "thankfully" at the time because the idea of not having someone next to me for an entire three hour bus trip was appealing. In retrospect, I say "thankfully" for many other reasons.

After a few minutes, conversation began between the three of us and at one point, the man I described above (whom I'll call Virgin Man for reasons you'll discover by the end of this true tale.) looked back at me and saw me eating a snack. He looked at my Kashi bar with an undisguised avaricious gleam in his eye and then commented to me "OH, is that peanut butter? Hey, can I come back there with you and get some lovin'?" I'm sure I was giving him looks that indicated that I thought he was a crazy person, but I calmly and kindly replied "Well, No, I won't give you any lovin', but you can have a peanut butter snack."

Thankfully (once again) he seemed satisfied with the idea of food and didn't come back to sit with me. Looking back, I probably should have realized what an absolute freak he was and ceased any and all conversation with him at that exact moment, but you know what they say: Hindsight REALLY IS 20/20, yeah?

Our conversation lulled often...mostly caused by the fact that he was getting up to go to the bathroom about every 30 minutes. ( I must admit some fault here, I suppose. This guy was a freak and I let the Mom in me get all worried and override my "crazy person" antennae which must have been going around in circles at warp speed at that point. To be honest, I'm surprised that one of the balls attached to the end of the antennae didn't sling off and hit me in the face!!) But Ol' Mom popped up and as he walked past my seat back to his own after one of these numerous visits to the stinky bathroom, I asked him "Do you have Diabetes, by any chance?" When he answered in the negative, I encouraged him to make an appointment with his family practice doctor because he was having plenty of the symptoms of that nefarious disease.

The trip continued. He tried to help me with my crossword puzzle (Prolly another ploy to get some sweet lovin'!!!) He quizzed me about my life and told me a bit about himself. Turns out he has several children, one of whom is a recent graduate from Southwest Texas State University. So, I'm guessing his eldest boy (the graduate) is approximately 23 or 24-ish. Now, if you know me at all, you know that I don't look, act, or feel my age, yeah? My heart is about the age of his son (AT MOST) So, imagine my surprise when he informed me of his intentions to visit Austin the next week! I knew where he was going with this statement, so I said "Oh, that's nice. Austin is a really neat city to visit." This time, sadly, he didn't catch my hint. He barged onward bravely. "So, can I have your phone number?" he asked with a confidence that I found to be highly misplaced. In my mind, I was freakin' out! How in the world could I politely turn down this man who is way too old for me in some ways (chronologically) and way too young for me in others (ummmm....mentally???)

"Well" I began, "Thank you for asking, but I don't know you. I don't give my phone number to strangers." He smiled, undaunted, and proceeded to ask "Well, can I have your address then?" I hoped a look of abject fear wasn't crossing over my features just then whilst visions ran through my mind of Virgin Man appearing on my doorstep, knife in hand and a Jack Nicholson-esque leer on his face.

"Um..." I stuttered out as my mind scrambled for something to say that would avert the headlines that would read NICE GIRL KILLED BY PSYCHO SHE MEETS ON BUS. "Um..." I repeated again "You can have my email address" I answered with a question in my voice, all the while hoping he wasn't a computer genius who could track me with only that small piece of information. He seemed satisfied. He then proceeded to give me his phone numbers in Houston replete with precise instructions as to when to call and how to give a message to the person who answered the phone.

Finally, it seemed that he might leave me alone. I took Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban out of my bag and began reading where I had left off. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him repeatedly looking back at me over his shoulder. I guess he was hoping to catch my eye and grab a chance to start another conversation with me. He must have gotten tired of waiting for my notice, though, because he just started making random comments to me over his left shoulder.

"I'm really attracted to bookworms." he stated with a leer he must have thought was charming. I ignored him politely, pretending I hadn't heard him.

"When I come visit you, we can go to the doctor to see if I have diabetes" he said next with this boyish look which seemed to combine an excitement and a slyness that made me uncomfortable.

I quickly informed him of his mistake. "Oh, no, sir...You misunderstand. You have to make an appointment with your own doctor at home." He looked shocked and said to me earnestly, "But when we're married, you'll need to know all about my medical stuff."

This time, I hoped fervently that my incredulity WOULD show on my face. "Well," I said with as much politeness as I could muster, "I highly doubt we'll ever be married, Virgin Man." In my mind, I ticked off several reasons why "NO" was entirely logical.

a) He was near 50 years old.

b) He had grown children

c) He was creepy. Um...did I say creepy? well, I meant to tell you that he was creepy.

oh, and then there was d) TOTAL beer breath. YUCK!!

He must not have agreed with my negative answer because his face scrunched up in confusion and he eyed me quizzically. "We're not getting married?" he asked sincerely. "No, I really don't think so, Virgin Man." As I answered, I heard a quiet guffaw from a few seats away. I would have liked to have laughed at the situation but it was just too weird for me to be able to do so. My response to him seemed to have quieted him, so I settled back into my book.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him move in a rather large way. I looked up to find that he was turned around in his seat, crooking his finger at me. I leaned forward to hear what he had to say. Shock flowed through me when I heard him ask, "Are you a Virgin?" I reacted without thinking, really. Though I didn't mean to do so, I raised my voice as I asked him sternly "Why are you asking me such a thing? That is a very rude question!!"

He acted chastised. He turned around in his seat, holding his palms open in a placatingly apologetic manner. I still felt a bit ruffled, but since he seemed repentant, I just turned back to my book, fully intending to ignore him completely and continue reading about Harry James Potter and those mean and nasty old Dementors.

It was instinct, however, that had my head popping up when I heard the quiet "Psssttt" coming from in front of me. Virgin Man locked eyes with me over his shoulder and whispered as if we'd been holding a conversation this whole time..."Well, are you?" This time, my raised volume was not inadvertent. My voice filled with a scorn worthy of Hermione during the worst part of the Ron/Lavender debacle. "Are you STILL asking me that question?" I asked him in a chilly manner. Perhaps my mother was right when she said we are descended from one of Charlemagne's empresses because my regal bearing was evident when I issued the royal fiat to Virgin Man. "Please DO NOT ask me again" I ordered commandingly. Strangely enough, even my queenly and majestic tones did not shame him. He, once again, quieted, but only momentarily.

In a very small way, what happened next actually caused me to admire him. He had some pure nerve and audacity!! "So" he said conversationally, "Call me tonight when you get into Orange, o.k.?" I'm actually surprised my jaw didn't drop, but it couldn't have because I heard myself say "Well, there is a bachlorette party tonight when I get there." He went on intrepidly, "Oh well, tomorrow morning will be fine then." I shook my head at him and answered, "This will be a very busy wedding weekend. I doubt I'll have time." I was amazed. Nothing shamed him! Not my loud voice! Not my rebuke! Not my regal bearing! Nothing. Looking back, perhaps I should have just told him in the beginning that I doubted that we'd have much in common and that he was offensive to me, but my momma always taught me to be nice to people...and it's a hard habit to break. Thankfully (yes! that word again) it was just moments later when he got off the bus fussing at the driver about dropping him off at the wrong depot. I breathed sigh of relief as the big grey passenger bus lumbered its way up the road and away from Virgin Man. It couldn't have been too soon for me. Have a nice life, Virgin Man. I hope I never see you again!!! And before you email and ask me...Yes, it really happened JUST THIS WAY. You can't make this stuff up.