Wasting time
Oct. 6th, 2006 04:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brigdhI'm trying to write a paper. Progress being made on that: absolutely none! It's alright. I'm having a good time sitting in this coffeeshop, watching the cold and the rain outside while staying in the warmth.
There's a travel company here in New York that runs double decker buses for people to ride in on a tour of the city; the upper deck is open to the air, so you can see the individual people sitting there when they drive by. I see three or four a day, which I suspect is mostly the result of where I am in the city; they're always coming down First Avenue or circling Union Square or taking the night tour past the arch in Washington Square.
They usually go by too fast for me to hear anything the announcer says, but sometimes I accidentally catch the eye of one of the people riding in it. Just for a second, and I doubt many of them have noticed me, and even less remembered me, but I like the thought of being the background of someone's vacation. They can go back home and never think of it again, but for a moment I was a decoration on the streets that they were there just for the purpose of seeing.
Of course, everyone is always part of the scenery of other people's lives. We're always the passerbys on the street outside the restaurant where someone is being proposed to, or part of the crowd at the big concert, or the people in the next room at the hotel or hospital. The tour-buses seem to make it more obvious, though. I wonder if they'll keep running once it gets too cold to sit on top of a bus.
There's a travel company here in New York that runs double decker buses for people to ride in on a tour of the city; the upper deck is open to the air, so you can see the individual people sitting there when they drive by. I see three or four a day, which I suspect is mostly the result of where I am in the city; they're always coming down First Avenue or circling Union Square or taking the night tour past the arch in Washington Square.
They usually go by too fast for me to hear anything the announcer says, but sometimes I accidentally catch the eye of one of the people riding in it. Just for a second, and I doubt many of them have noticed me, and even less remembered me, but I like the thought of being the background of someone's vacation. They can go back home and never think of it again, but for a moment I was a decoration on the streets that they were there just for the purpose of seeing.
Of course, everyone is always part of the scenery of other people's lives. We're always the passerbys on the street outside the restaurant where someone is being proposed to, or part of the crowd at the big concert, or the people in the next room at the hotel or hospital. The tour-buses seem to make it more obvious, though. I wonder if they'll keep running once it gets too cold to sit on top of a bus.
