on the bus

skinny old jenny stepped stiffly

off the greyhound from reno,

saying the slots are friendlier at night.

she'd put the three hundred

she was ahead last night,

back into Ace Invaders

before her first crown royal

and seven at noon that day.

still, not a bad way to celebrate

her seventieth birthday,

even if she had been alone.

-up until the bus ride home.

she had ridden next to brandon

in the back row seats on the bus.

he'd climbed on in truckee,

abandoning his pals who had

brought him up to a rented cabin

for a consolation party,

-he' had just flunked out of Cal. 

by the time they'd reached

the summit at donner pass

jenny's hand was on

a subterranean expedition

under his baggy jeans

to determine whether

his equipment favored

the left or right.

brandon didn't mind this

unexpected attention

from the old lady grinning

at him with a wicked smile.

until the prongs on her flashy

cocktail ring got snagged

in his curlies at a most

unfortunate moment.

it took her most of the way

to sacramento to persuade him

to let her continue her examination.

-after she promised to remove her ring.

which proved to be a promise

she could not keep. the ring

which her late third husband,

roger, had given her after

after an indiscretion at

the western food services

convention ten years before,

would not budge beyond

her knuckle which had

developed a mild arthritic

swelling since his demise. 

she suggested that they

swap seats so that she

could use her other hand

but four pairs of mormon

missionaries boarded the bus

and made their way to

the rearmost seats, laughing

and discussing their day.

somewhere between fairfield

and vallejo, they all seemed

to have dozed off, but brandon

was feeling a bit too inhibited

for jenny to resume.

by the time greyhound

finally arrived in san francisco

just after eleven, jenny

had convinced brandon,

who had no place to stay,

to come home with her.

she lived in novato, they'd

have to catch another bus,

the last golden gate route 80

of the night, due in forty minutes.

it was a cold night, so they

walked up the street to

jack-in-the-box. jenny

had a coffee and bought

brandon two fish burgers,

a coke and onion rings.

they soon fell into an animated

conversation about serial killers,

the immigration system, and

their mutual dedication to the giants.

brandon was fascinated by

her tales of games and glories

in the years before he was born.

jenny slithered a nyloned foot

under the table and slowly
slid it up brandon's thigh.

well that's the part i heard and saw

while sitting at a nearby table. i was

waiting for route 80 too.