There is Shades Man. You will always find a pair of shades sitting on his nose or pushed up onto his head. He likes bold colors in sporty designs and throws dinner parties for his many cousins. He and his wife cook fresh pasta once a week, or at least they try to.
There is Chunky Glasses Man. He works with Shades Man. His apartment is too small for parties. He's gay. He says "Mmm, hmmmmmm" and wears an awesome yellow & brown plaid coat. His haircut makes him look younger than he probably is.
There is Blonde Bob Girl. She has beautiful blonde hair which she is constantly smoothing over. She wears it very simply, a short blunt cut. Her clothes are perfectly tailored. She has a sleepy look about her. She has a nice laugh.
There is Beautiful Smile Woman. She always saves a seat for Blonde Bob Girl. She is the wife, friend or girlfriend of a composer. I know this because I once designed postcards for a choral group and the music's composer. At the event, I saw Beautiful Smile Woman standing closely with the composer. They bent their heads closely to one another while talking. We waved at each other over the food spread.
There is Bun Woman. She wears her hair in a bun every day. She has really tiny feet and wears old lady/nursing shoes, which is incongruous to the cool, knee-length leather jacket she wears. Her voice is high-pitched and cracks a lot.
There is Opinion For Everything Man. He just started riding the 191 Express. He's very opinionated. If he doesn't know the answer, he will cite a source where one would be able to find such information. He knows where the best fishing is to be had in these parts.
There is Dressed In Black Man. He wears all black. He has a beard. He's short and doesn't looker older than 25. He smiles a lot but never says anything. His shoe soles are worn down, and he looked like a little kid the one time I saw him wearing shorts.
There is Mother Earth Woman. She wears lots of silver animal-shaped jewelry and reads magazines on beading. Her hair hangs down to her waist which she keeps in a tidy braid. She hums pretty songs.
There is Knitting Girl. She waits 'til the very last minute to stuff her needles and yarn back into her bag before getting off her bus stop.
There are many more folks but none with Nicknames. And there's me. We all ride the 191 Express bus that leaves the uptown transit station at 7:29 a.m. We're bus people.
