Helping the Booty Caller

I made it to work today and realized that I forgot to get something in my apartment. So I decided to take a cab home, get "the thing" (it's kind of personal, so you understand) and cab it back super quick. All was going according to plan. I got "said thing" and started to look for my cab ride back downtown. However, like an angel from heaven, a southbound 42 appeared.

I ran to the stop, reaching for my wallet and getting my $1.25 ready. It was the middle of the day, so the line was essentially, me, a guy... and another guy.

As we board, guy #2 says to me, "Hey, does this bus go to the White House?"

I immediately notice his attire. He was wearing a t-shirt that was a little too small for him, but you could tell it wasn't really meant to be tight. And his pants were definitely suit pants. Striped, in fact. His shoes were suit shoes. His hair was messy. It didn't take a genius to figure this one out. It was a girl's t-shirt! And they were suit pants! Could it be a midday walk of shame!?!?!

But why go to the White House?

All of a sudden, excited in my curiosity, and like the Helpy Helperton that I am, I say, "It sure does! It actually passes the White House. You'll see it from the bus!"

"Awesome," he says, "thanks so much. How much is it? A dollar?"

So, I'm thinking, walk of shame, yet from out of town. A long-distance spontaneous relationship, perhaps? Then, my mind wandered, and I thought, how romantic! He obviously just had to see her (or him, you never know) so badly, that he hopped on a train from New York, said, screw you work, knocked on her door, surprised her with a rose he constructed from the front page of the New York Times, and then they had the most amazing night ever.

I had to help this boy. The story, although completely in my head, was just too good.

"Actually," I say, still playing the role of Helpy, "It's a dollar twenty-five!"

I get on first, and as I'm finessing my bill through the machine, I hear him mumble something about not having exact change. I turn around and notice he has a dollar bill, but no quarter. So, I say, "Do you need a quarter? Here! Take one of mine!"

"Oh man, thanks so much," he says, "that's so nice."

We both board the bus. As I reach my stop, I say, "Have fun," and that was that. I was proud to be a part of that boy's story, even though, you know, I totally made it up.