340/365 – APPEARANCE

Word Count: 420

The man with the silly-ass coat is a doctor. He has shaggy black hair and wide-rimmed thick glasses. His khakis are wrinkled, his tie much too short, and his coat is a navy-blue parka.

I’m good at pegging people to their occupations. Not so good at judging their motivations. I’m trying to learn. For example, the man with the coat is a hospital doctor–not private practice. He is harried and stressed. Works in the ER most likely, or maybe a surgeon. That much I can tell from his appearance. Now if I apply that to his personality, I’d guess he chose medicine because he’s altruistic, really believes in saving lives. Or an arm, a leg, a dying heart.

My boyfriend just broke up with me. He said I was too argumentative. Too analytical. Too many “a” words, I guess. I never suspected it bothered him. I thought he enjoyed our discussions. I thought he thought I was diplomatic and deep.

The fat lady at the end of the seat is a mother. Nobody else dresses like that. She used to be a secretary, or a clerk typist before she got married. The wedding ring cinches her finger as tight as a noose.

I’m the middle girl of three children. My older sister could well be a model, so long-limbed and thin. Her blonde hair is not natural, but it’s thick and she never shows roots. Her eyes are aqua, yellow lenses over dull blue except when she wears the pink ones that make her eyes Taylor-violet. My eyes are brown. Yellowish-brown with contacts is the best I can do.

The kid across from me is an only child. No experienced mother in the world would let her get away with poking people and singing in that God-awful voice the whole thirty blocks of the bus ride. Her mother is just that, a mother. Used to be somebody special once, though. Somebody like maybe a retail store buyer, or maybe she worked in a jewelry store. Certainly though, not a librarian or one who likes music at all.

Before he told me he was leaving, he cleaned out his clothes from the closet and drawers, went through the DVDs and CDs and took only his. Except the ones that I’d bought him. Now what does that mean?

The man with the silly-ass coat is getting off at this stop. He is a doctor. Or maybe a lawyer. Or maybe an Indian Chief.