To avoid heavy traffic in Westwood (and parking hassles), I often leave the car parked at the curb, and hop on a Metro bus which winds along a picturesque route on the infamous Sunset Boulevard through tony Beverly Hills to UCLA.
This morning, shortly after I perched myself on one of those new-fangled benches on the corner of Crescent Heights, a mid-twenties dude strolled up and took a seat.
I did a double-take.
Was that a skirt he was wearing?
Golly!
When I spied a No. 302 carrier heading in our direction, I remained seated; after all, it was an express bus which wasn't required to stop at that location.
Imagine that, the bus - which was zipping along at a fast clip - suddenly swerved in to the curb to a precise stop and the doors swung open wide.
I gestured for the dapper metrosexual male to go ahead of me (ladies first?), and then, climbed on board.
Mystified, I was inclined to pose an obvious question.
"The 302 doesn't usually stop here for passenger pick-up, does it?"
The driver responded without hesitation.
"I saw the skirt, so I pulled in."
"Got a surprise, though, didn't you," I chuckled under my breath.
"Uh-huh,' he uttered up red-faced.
The moral of the story?
Always check for an Adam's apple!
