Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Of buses and spies.

The thing that does its best to make up for the stellar-ness of the new flat is the commuting time, which is decidedly non-stellar. Buses are relatively few for city living, and the one we get into town takes anywhere up to an hour (although, in all fairness, some of that is due to completely pointless roadworks along the way). Matt and I tend to get the same bus in the mornings before splitting off to catch more, separate, buses to our respective work.

There are regulars on our morning route:

There's the woman with the Dog Aid Society sweatshirt and her (very cute) dog.

There's the teenage girl in the green private school uniform who often carries a musical instrument or hockey stick.

There's the group of boys wearing a different private school uniform, one of whom mysteriously shaved his head at the front, leaving a curtain of longish hair stretching from ear to ear at the back. It looked ludicrous, and we bet that he cut the rest off soon after due to mockery from his peers. We were wrong.

There's the guy with his two little daughters, who dress identically, down to their bags and lunchboxes.

And then there's us. We tend to go a tad loopier in the mornings, and end up having conversations about the oddest things. And sometimes we slip into character. A while back, we were two rival topiary enthusiasts, debating the use of box hedges.
This last week, we were elderly Russian spies, who'd spent the best part of their lives feeding the ducks whilst swapping secrets.

We get strange looks a lot.

I should also point out that Matt is called Pavel because I needed to think of a Russian name, and took one from Star Trek. My nerdiness is showing...

These character things tend to bleed over into online conversations throughout the day. After the topiary debate, I sent Matt an email telling him that he was a fraud, and that his views on box hedges were insane.
This time, we exchanged IMs...

Me: Ahhh, Pavel. My old friend.

Matt: Ahhh Sergei, it has been many years no?

Me: The breast of Mother Russia beckons me ever more often these days.


Matt: it reminds me of the winter blooms of my native Omsk...

Me: Ahh, Omsk. A jewel in the crown.

Matt: aaah yes, to once more taste mother's black bread...

Me: Da. *sigh*
It has been too long, my friend.

Matt: and yet we stay Sergei, we stay... for teh ducks perhaps they ahve become good friends...

Me: Their welcoming quacks warm this stony Slavic heart,

Matt: Not stony Sergei friend! Old and tired yes, but never of teh stone.

Me: I am old, Pavel. I am a foolish old man who yearns too much for the days of his youth. You, my friend, you bring me hope in these dark times.

Me: I go now. I smoke a cigarette, and I think of old times. I will return.

Matt: I will await you once more old friend. *tears chunk of stale bread and tosses it to the pond with a sigh...*

Yeah, we get strange looks.

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At 7:50 pm, Blogger Charybdis said...

*gives strange look*

At 7:53 pm, Blogger LaMa said...

* gives strange look too and adds: *

[pedantic] Isn't Pavel a Chzech name actually? [/pedantic]


At 8:24 pm, Blogger Peter said...

You must get a photo of the shaven/longhaired one!

At 9:26 pm, Blogger Mouse said...

I've known you your whole life and I still give you strange looks sometimes... ;-)

At 9:45 pm, Blogger Hieronymus Anonymous said...

"[pedantic] Isn't Pavel a Chzech name actually? [/pedantic]"

Possibly, but it's Chekov's first name, so I went with it.

At 4:47 am, Blogger Tah said...

That was an IM conversation and you still get strange looks? Who's looking strangely over your shoulder?

At 5:36 pm, Blogger LaMa said...

"[pedantic] Isn't Pavel a Chzech name actually? [/pedantic]"

"Possibly, but it's Chekov's first name, so I went with it.

The Chekov in "Star Trek" you mean...

At 6:27 pm, Blogger Hieronymus Anonymous said...

Of course. Pavel Andreievich Chekov (named to honour the playwrite Chekhov).
He was Russian, wasn't he?

At 6:39 pm, Blogger Charybdis said...

That's why he's Pavel Chzechov, duh.

At 11:51 am, Anonymous Accipiter said...

*looks strange*
(Take that as you will)

The shaved front and long-haired back was a traditional Mongol or Manchu haircut, I believe. . .do any of those kids tend to stash small wiry ponies in the luggage areas?


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