waiting for the bus, and this guy is looking at me. not with his head down, eyes peering up under his hat, but right at me. i am waiting for him to look away, so i can check him out. i think, maybe, i know him. i'm not sure. he starts to paw through his backpack, and i give him a quick glance. he's a customer, regular enough that i feel bad for not knowing his name. regular enough that i have my own name for him- insulin boy- because he takes his shots, sitting at a table, before he orders. i find it kind of fascinating. i watch him every time he does it, and he always smiles up at me when he pushes the needle in. he is a strange boy. i look back at my feet, and he looks back up at me. i should say hello, but maybe he doesn't recognize me? i hate explaining to people that i know them from work. i hate when customers stop me at cross walks, or grocery stores and say "you look really familiar..." he gets up and makes this big looping walk around the benches, until he is standing about three feet in front of me. he keeps looking at me, waiting for me to make eye contact. i stare at the clouds as if they are the most fascinating, awesome, sight in the world. he takes a hacky sac out of his bag, and i would like to laugh. a good 89% of my mind is telling me that this is hilarious, and who the fuck carries a hacky sac around with them? in 2007? and he starts to kick in, and he's good. i'm pretty sure this makes the whole thing even more amusing. i want to laugh, but instead i'm just standing there, watching him kick this stupid beanbag around. he catches it on his head, then moves so it rolls down his back. i'm a little impressed. he smiles at me. i smile back, but stop short of saying anything. he continues to throw arms and legs out, while slowly moving closer. i have to keep reminding myself not to step back. not to run away. i listen to the sound. i think about sandbag toss games, and country fairs, and crochet klenex holder cozies. his kick is too high, and for a second i want to reach out. my arm moves up, but freeze half way, and we both watch as it hits the ground dead in front of me. "oh." i say. he waits. for me to pick it up? to say a hello? and there is the number one, coming around the corner. i say "my bus." and run around him, a wider circle than needed. he yells "bye!" and i get on, and i turn to see him waving. "bye" i yell back, as the doors close. i take a seat, and i think "what the hell was that?"

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