Busan Stories (Ms. Echoes)

I saw her this morning wearing a pink berea and matching purse. I had only seen her once, but that was enough to leave a permanent imprint in my mind. I thought I had lost her forever. One passing moment with her left me startled and speechless. But there she was again, within ten feet of my senses.

I wait with many other transients for the bus into the Financial District. One particular rainy morning, the bus was more than fashionable late. I have the habit of not carrying an umbrella and letting the drops of common grace shower me in childish guilt... like playing in the mud. On more casual days, watching the moisture drop from the brim of my cap would bring an additional joy. But it being a workday, I sought the protection from the rain in a small inlet of a church. It's the front door of the local Chinese Lutheran church and goes about 4 feet in. A few others had the same idea of shelter and we huddled as strangers in the tight space. A young asian girl, probably still in junior high glanced me a funny look and continued to talk with who I believe was her mother. Funny, no resemblance. The older of the two of shorter and reminded me of the lady we'd pick up and drop off with the bus on the way to church... a bit fobby and a little absent-minded.

We waited and waited... all in silence and in the comforts of our own personal space. Then an intrusive "bbbaaaaaarrrriiipppp" broke the peaceful silence and a warmth shattered the chill air. It was like listening to a car back fire and walking through a steam vent, but mixed in with the grotesque idea of being produced by bodily functions. I was a bit dazed and confused by the ruckus, but I swear that in the little confines of that sanctuary, the sound reverberated with more force with every echo. My attention immediately focused on the young girl. Her embarrassed look gave her away.

I sank my nose into my book and tried to forget the event that just unfolded before my eyes. What felt like hours, were actually minutes and the bus finally arrived. Everyone started their way to form a line to enter the bus. I placed my bookmark in my book and prepared to follow the crowd. Just as I took my first step, the old woman accompanying the "gasy"girl ripped another "BBAAAARRRRIIIIIPPP"! It was her, not the younger girl! She stunned me with the sheer force and gall of flatulence. Her name is Ms. Echoes... may I live to never see or smell her again...

Thanks to my roommate Albie for providing a clever way to name these strange people I happen to meet. I have assimilated his habit of calling people by Mr./Ms. and a characteristic that best describes them. I call it Albie Nomenclature.