This Conversation Died

We’re about an hour in on a five-hour bus ride to [City]. This is a trip I take frequently, as my daughter lives there. Next to me is a woman in her early 20s who also frequents this route. Having talked to her a few times previously, I know she’s a quiet but polite person, and probably on her way to visit her parents. She’s reading and listening to music, and looks like she wants to be left alone.

Unfortunately she’s drawn the attention of two young men around her age sitting across the aisle from us, and they’ve been trying to engage her in conversation, asking questions and what not. Her answers, although polite, have been short and uninterested up until this point.

She gets enough and firmly tells them that she is not interested in conversation and wants to get back to her book. She’s in the process of re-inserting her earphones when one of the guys whispers to the other “who died and made her head bitch?”. She turns to look at them, and in an angry but calm way, she says, “my grandmother.” She then goes back to her book and music as if nothing’s happened, and the guys fall silent.

I talked to her about an hour or so later; she was on her way to the funeral.