Pied Pacer

I don't know if you remember my last pacing-at-the-T-stop story. It attracted the attention of a nice boy who thought I was cold. He gave me advice on how to stay warm. There was an awkward silence. Since then, I have taken that lesson and tried not to pace too vigorously at T stops. But alas, waiting for the bus is boring and I'm fidgety. So the other night, I paced myself gently behind the bus shelter, trying to do so in as unnoticeable a manner as possible.

Unfortunately, I was noticed. Not only so, but I was inspirational as well. A middle aged woman who had previously been standing still decided that she, too, ought to pace around the bus shelter. But she didn't stop there. Her arms shot out wildly as she walked about, like Tourette spasms. Her attention grabbing flails made me uncomfortable, as I was worried that we were quickly becoming a marching duo of dunces in the eyes of others. So I slowed my steps and eventually stopped, trying to act as cool as possible. Even in my inaction, however, I was inspirational. Soon, crazy arms stopped pacing as well (but her arms never stopped flailing). I'm a regular ol' pied piper. For freaks at least.