She was sitting next to me on the bus, but she didn't seem to notice anything having to do with the outside world. Just after she sat down, she poured lotion on her hands and then rubbed it in, slowly, methodically, maybe even a little bit longer than necessary, as if satisficing (but not satisfying) her need for skin-on-skin contact. After watching that was the exact moment I fell in love with her.
I routinely fall in and out of love with women that I see on the bus or that pass me by in the street. The entire process of thinking how incredible they look, what I would say to one of them if the opportunity to say something to her presented itself, followed by a brief internal cinema screening showing both our first date and then the happily-ever-after then by the return to reality. All that usually takes about 5 seconds. My love for the girl on the bus the other day lasted about a half an hour, that is, about the length of the bus ride from my apartment to work. We did not exchange glances. There was no opportunity to even say a word because her mind was occupied with whatever music flowing from her digital player to her earphones. Just because she's not aware of me does not mean I can't fall for her.
My favourite people to watch are the people who are so involved in whatever they are doing at the moment. Examples this past week alone are the girl on the bus putting on makeup, expertly applying mascara in between bumps on the road; the junkie shooting up in broad daylight on Hastings, the look on his face showing the imminent rush of self-loathing as the needle goes in; or the cute skater couple just as they got off the bus, one of whom taking his left hand out of his pocket and the other fumbling to put whatever piece of paper she was holding in her right hand in her back pocket, so that their fingers could at last interlock. Whether those people knew it or not, they let me look at them. They let me imagine, based only on reading not lips but their body language what their personality might be like, what their story might be, all based solely on information gleaned from stolen looks.