Saturation 2

During the two weeks i've been visiting the 'rents in the subtropical zone, the weather forecast has been pretty much the same everyday: 82% humidity, 28° - 33° C, with a chance of thunderstorm.

Leaving for another city tomorrow and hadn't been rained on. Thought i was home free. Until this morning.

Many were caught without an umbrella or raingear it seemed. As fast as i could sprint and with all the awnings i found myself dodging under, i was drenched in no time. And not a taxi in sight even if i'd succumb (my norm would be to take the 20-minute walk all the way or take the bus). Of all days i had to pick today to wear a white top with fabric as delicate as a whisper. Before long i caught a man driving by in a truck sloooowing down to check me out. I looked down and realized: i might as well have been in a wet t-shirt contest. And i would have won, too.

Finally boarded a bus. Miserable and cold in the air-conditioned space. I thought i could tough out the 5-minute ride. I sat without fidgeting about the droplets all over my arms and legs, my dripping hair and the clothes stuck to my body.

"Do you have Kleenex on you?" A woman's voice asked. I looked across to meet the eyes of a very concerned stranger, probably my age. She was no career women, that was for sure. You could tell from her attire as well as the fact that she was on a bus at 9:50 a.m. (I don't think flex hours are huge in this particular town).

"You are very wet," continued the woman across from me.

In another context this could be a fantasy come true. At this moment in the confines of a city bus, though, i was plainly embarrassed.

"I do," i managed a smile as i replied.

Then awkwardness set in. I swear the next few seconds were played in slo-mo. It was as if silence befell the bus there and a spotlight was shone on me. Everybody held their breath awaiting my next move.

Action.

Naught.

For a sensible grown woman surely would not op not to dry herself off when equipped with the abundance of facial tissues! It's the only logical step to take!

And thus i slowly unzipped my purse, reached in and did the right thing for the audience.

The woman got off the bus soon after.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Had lunch with relatives i see about every 5 years on average. More showed up than i was expecting. I felt uneasy. One can't be oneself and order or consume with all abandon at dim sum when food is rationed and shared amongst those who are, for all intents and purposes, strangers.

Conversation was insipid as usual and i couldn't wait till it was all over. Loneliness in a group is the worst kind.

Found relief in a rest stop escape the end of the meal. Almost didn't want to step out of the restroom after. As i exited, one of the restaurant hostesses was about to enter and we almost bumped into each other. We kinda made way at the same time and through. Awkward.

As i was about to speed up to leave the awkwardness behind, a young, feminine voice called my attention from behind me, "Miss..."

It was the hostess, of course. I semi-reluctantly turned around with question marks popping up all over my face. What could she possibly want?

"Your skirt is..." She said quietly. "Stuck..."

I reached behind and, knowing full well what she must mean, pulled at the hem that had been tucked in my thong unintentionally. Uh, that would not have been pretty: my butt on display in public. (OK, maybe that would've been pretty. But not classy.) (I had considered after i'd put on the skirt this morning that perhaps i should've picked boyshorts instead. Just in case i pulled a Marilyn Monroe.)

Slightly mortified but genuinely grateful, i thanked the young hostess wholeheartedly, and she responded politely and yet just nonchalantly enough, as if to spare my feelings by brushing over the devastation of the potential calamity that could've been.

Disoriented, i returned to my table, not feeling my legs under me.

Two random acts of kindness by strangers in a day. Wow. It wasn't the hostess' job to save me, nor the commuter's obligation to care about my comfort level. Maybe my people are not as hopeless and dispicable as i have thought.