Title is a twist of Tin's blog title. My wit is razor-sharp.
On my way home tonight, I took the only available seat on the bus. To my disappointment, it wasn't a window seat.
I like window seats. I like looking outside and watching as I whiz by the surroundings: cars, trucks, motorcycles, the wide sea of paved cement. Looking out on the streetlights and the people and the rows of dirty, deeply uninteresting buildings soothes my spirit.
Tonight, however, I didn't get a chance to see all that.
I guess I like window seats because seeing everything fly by provides me the comforting illusion that I am going somewhere, that I am moving forward in a specific direction, instead of being trapped in a confining metal cage they call a bus.