11 September 2012

In a better world...

...a very large man in a dark business suit on the cross town bus would not have sat on my banana.

From the expression on his face, I'm sure that he thinks so too.


Julie Heyward said...

Sheesh ...

You men; always going on about your bananas.

That being said, one wonders what your banana was doing on that bus. Was it running away from home? Perhaps the large man and the banana were in collusion (yes, being sat upon entails very *intimate* collusion, but I mean *intentional* collusion in an attempt to elude those pursuing the fleeing banana, or perhaps the sitting man was intending to end the fleeing, or perhaps the large man was of that form of sea-life that uses the same orifice for eating as for what happens post-eating.)

We would need a more careful description of "the expression on his face" to provide further helpful analysis for pursuit of the bus-riding banana (and, I might add, we would very much like to hear the banana's side of the story).

Felix said...

JH> You men; always going on about
JH> your bananas.

Yeah, well ... you know what they say ... if you've got a banana, why not flaunt it?

Alas, I no longer do...

JH> ...one wonders what your banana
JH> was doing on that bus.

Very little. Just lying there, inoffensively.

JH> Was it running away from home?
JH> Perhaps...

OK, OK, enough of the speculation already ... here's a full account of the situation.

Banana and I were sitting on the almost empty bus. 30 seats, of which all but four were empty – one of those four being occupied by me (window seat) while beside me (aisle seat) Banana reclined at its ease (but not in pyjamas – it wasn't one of those bananas) on top of the bag containing, amongst other things, my computer. It was on top of the bag, rather than inside, to avoid being battered and squashed by the computer and other tusch inside ... which, in retrospect, is ironic.

We were co-travelling, Banana and I.

I was reading Iain Banks' novel Transition which is, also in retrospect, mordantly appropriate.

Suddenly the sun was blotted out by the said large dark suited stranger, who without a word or other warning dropped himself into the seat next to me.

Alarmed, I grabbed the bag and just managed to snatch it out of his way before he hit bottom (so to speak) ... but, alas, Banana was caught unawares, didn't make the same lateral transition, and was left behind (in both senses of the word "behind") to make a transition of an altogether more fundamental kind.

Having sat down the man looked at me, said "I thought you were Gavin", got up again, registered the squidgy dampness of his nether region and displayed the expression to which I have referred, and moved away up the bus to another seat.

JH> We would need a more careful
JH> description of "the expression
JH> on his face"...

I regret to say that it was beyond my powers of description...

JH> ...(and, I might add, we would
JH> very much like to hear the
JH> banana's side of the story).

Sadly, the banana's side of the story is .... how shall I put this ... somewhat two dimensional.

Julie Heyward said...

Okay. We're making progress. We've established that your banana was not "Gavin." I'm now wondering if it's necessary to sit on a banana to determine this fact. I don't believe I've ever been able to discern whether or not a banana was "Gavin" just by looking.

Jasmine said...

I love this story so much I am tempted to print it out and save it as a bedtime story for my hypothetical future children.

The banana needs a name.

Felix said...

Jasmine> The banana needs a name.

Canaan Sodindo?