The Party Stops Here

(I’m on the late bus after a long day at work. There are several other people scattered around, all of them looking just as exhausted and ready to get home as I feel. About halfway home, a guy gets onto the bus who seems pretty tweaked out. He is twitching and mumbling to himself. He goes and sits down, and after a minute, reaches over to poke the lady sitting in the row ahead of him.)

Man: “Hey. Hey.”

Woman: *looking tired and a bit uncomfortable* “What?”

Man: “Where you heading?”

Woman: “I’m going home.”

Man: “I’m going to a party.”

(The woman nods and then turns away a bit.)

Man: “Hey. Hey. You want to come? It’s a party, a fun party. It’ll be a fun party.”

Woman: “No, thanks. I’m headed home. My daughter’s waiting for me.”

Man: “Hey. Hey. I was just asking, you know, if you wanted to come to the party. It’ll be a fun party.”

(The woman didn’t respond, but she did start gathering her things. The man tried to ask her to come to the party a couple more times, and then, after a couple of stops, she stood up and headed to get off the bus. The man watched her blankly before he started struggling to his feet. I got up, too, and planted myself in the aisle, preventing him from getting past and just staring down at him. He looked between me and the woman before finally sitting back down and mumbling to himself. I stayed standing for a bit until the doors shut and the bus started moving again. Maybe he really did have to get off at that stop, but I really, really doubt it.)