Tips for Humans #373: Don't be the crazy one.

I waited until I was on the bus before I put in my headphones and opened iTunes, telling myself that this morning would be different goddamit; this morning I would be not a borderline stalker, and maybe the one thing I was looking forward to and dreading at the same time, wasn't even there anyway, but like all of the other times over the past four weeks, I was wrong.

Of course, it was there on the screen, the title saying everything that it needed to get my complete interest. Taunting me.

Jaime's Infinite Playlist.

My hands shook from the rush of adrenaline as I greedily scrolled through the list of songs that my ex-girlfriend had recently listened to on her own phone. By some fluke of technology, it showed up on my iTunes. It was just like an addict getting his fix, now that I think of it. I paused, savouring the moment, that heady rush of anticipation ready to rush over me and fill me with unimaginable bliss. I would have drunk from that anticipation if I could, taken it and injected it into my veins and let myself drown any guilt that might have wanted to come out and play.

I knew it was bad, but goddamn it was so, so good.

I hit PLAY.

Seriously, what did you expect from the guy who snorts heroin? Some kind of restraint?

Radiohead filled my ears, assuring me that everything was in its right place, right place, and I leaned my head against the glass, trying to lose myself for a while. For a moment it became the soundtrack for my life, perfectly in time with the hypnotic rock and sway of the bus as it carried us denizens of the graveyard shift into the waiting dawn. The lumbering vehicle rumbled smoothly from stop to start, the thrum of the engine vibrating through my entire being. My body moved in time with the sway as the bus navigated the bumps and potholes and demonstrated how few fucks it gave, because it was the goddamn morning bus and nothing got in its way.

I usually traveled in silent solidarity with the few passengers, enjoying one of the side-benefits of working the graveyard shift: watching the city awaken. All along the route, lights were switched on, others switched off as people left their houses. There was a general sense of the city itself stretching and yawning, preparing for the business of the day. It was strangely comforting knowing that my day had ended and now it was someone else's turn. Most mornings I would lean my head against the window, music in my ears, witness to the secret life of a city half-awake.

The unseasoned passenger would have been lulled into sleep, the kind of sleep that had made lesser men miss their stops on countless occasions, but I was the mutha-fuckin' master of the graveyard shift, and besides, I had Jaime on my mind.

Like any reasonable person, you're probably looking at me in absolute horror and a mixture of disgust usually reserved for politicians and pineapple on pizza, but in my defence, you would have done it too, and pineapple is awesome on pizza, so bring it!

"What's on the playlist this morning?" a woman's voice pierced through my chill vibe, right in my ear.

I'll be honest: I almost jumped out of my skin. I was yanked out of the semi-hypnotic state I had fallen into, slight panic and guilt flooding me as I turned from staring out the window to find the face of Crazy Mary inches from my own.

"Hello, Crazy Mary," I said, pulling out one earbud as I shifted in my seat. I tried to appear as nonplussed as possible. She had scared the shit out of me, but I was still enjoying a mellow high from the weed I had smoked earlier with Sammy, so 'nonplussed' was pretty easy for me to pull off.

After a year of riding on the 6:15 AM #2 bus I recognized a lot of the recurring characters in this strange movie that my life had become. It didn't matter the time of year, they always boarded the bus at their same stops along the Bloor line. I didn't know their names of course, so I just made up names for everybody. The group of Filipino maids that boarded at Yonge and Bloor were the Four Sandras; the tall skinny Kenyan guy in the blue overalls I referred to as Ken; the short blonde girl who had an amazing smile and was always deep in her law journals was Reese; and the older black lady in her sixties who always wore what seemed to be about 80% of her wardrobe on her body, whose face, currently three inches from my own, was Crazy Mary, but in my defence, in her case she told me that was her name.

Crazy Mary's halitosis was particularly vile this morning, and I almost gagged on the cloud of garlic that threatened to overtake my senses and melt my brain to a puddle of garlic overload.

"Holy shit, what have you been eating?" I managed to gasp, one finger pressed against the front of my nostrils.

"It's garlic! Gotta keep them vampires at bay!" Crazy Mary noticed my reaction and glared at me, squinting suspiciously. "You ain't one of them are you? You ain't got the eyes but still..."

"Not even close, but if I was, your breath would be the perfect weapon."

"Ain't no vampire bit me yet, so it's working," Crazy Mary said happily.

"Oh, it's definitely working," I gagged. "A little too well."

Garlic breath pummelled my senses as Crazy Mary huffed in my direction. "You'd tell me if you was a vampire, wouldn't you Bobby?" she asked intently.

"I swear if I ever turn into a vampire that I'll be sure and mention it," I managed. "Can you stop breathing on me now? Please?"

Crazy Mary relented and pulled back, head bopping to her own internal music. She gave me a knowing smile and tilted her head to my headphones.

"So what's the girlfriend listening to this morning?"

"She seems to be into Radiohead these days," I replied. I had told Crazy Mary about the playlist one morning. "She's out of her Blue October phase, so she might be mellowing a little." Blue October had been seriously angry and intense, even for me.

"What you getting outta it anyway? Ain't like you're going to suddenly know what makes her tick from her music," Crazy Mary said smugly. "Might as well figure out how women think first."

I looked at Crazy Mary expectantly, waiting for her to finish the thought.

"And exactly how do I do that?" I prompted.

"Ain't nobody knows," she grinned. "That's crazy talk. Like you and that dang playlist."

"It's just a playlist," I insisted. "It's nothing. Just a way for me to feel closer to her, you know?"

Crazy Mary rolled her eyes, not buying what I was selling. Typical. If it had been Claude he would have totally understood what I was saying, not just because he was a dude, but because he was my bro, mi amigo, totally on the same wavelength and he always had my back.

"You know it's wrong no matter how much you want to pretty it up," she said, leaning away from me as if I was the crazy person.

I sighed, hating that Crazy Mary was right. But I knew what I was doing, and if there was anything I had learned from watching six-months' worth of chick-flicks, it was that Lloyd Dobler grand gestures only worked in the movies. Listening to Jaime's playlist might have made me feel closer to Jaime, but it was a one-sided closeness. She wasn't listening to music to send some message out to the universe, it was just her way of coping, and there I was, eavesdropping like an asshole.

I looked out the window, realizing where we were and it was like time slowed to a crawl.

The problem with my route home was that it passed by the one place on earth that filled me with equal amounts of excitement and dread without the benefit of being a shitty theme park or shoddily constructed horror house. It was the place that made my heart want to thump its way out of my chest and the butterflies burst from my gut in a carnivorous rage. It was the place that made me want to take a bus forty minutes out of my way to avoid.

It was Jaime's apartment.

The location of Jaime's apartment had been one of the coincidental perks when we had been dating, almost as if we were neighbours, apart by barely a half-kilometre, but that proximity had come back to bite me in the ass really fucking hard. Every morning as the bus approached her stop, I tried to close my eyes and think about something else until we passed a safe distance away.

Some mornings I peeked, even though it was too early for Jaime to be up, but I peeked anyway, hoping to somehow catch a glimpse of her. Hope is made for fools after all. Most times, I made it through. Most times.

I stared at the nearby door, fighting the urge to stand up and push the red stop button on the pole ahead of me. I curled my hand into a fist, willing myself to stay seated, telling myself that it wasn't worth the trouble it would bring. It was a familiar battle especially when I was at my lowest and all I had to do was make it through the intersection. If the bus stopped on the corner, the urge would be too much to fight--

The bus sailed past the stop and through the intersection, heading steadily on its Eastbound route.

I let out a sigh of relief and sank back into my seat, celebrating my small victory.

I hadn't gotten off.

This is a big fucking deal, so let me just say it again in case you didn't get it the first time: I didn't get off. Instead, I smiled tightly, feeling the sting of tears behind my eyes, and dug into my coat pocket.

"I got something for you," I said and Crazy Mary's eyes lit up like it was Christmas, and it was her turn to French-kiss Old Saint Nick. I dug into my coat pocket, fingers navigating past a bundle of receipts and into the hole at the bottom that had defied my rudimentary sewing skills. Anything heavy automatically dropped through that hole and into the lining of the coat, so I usually avoided that pocket. I found what I was looking for and held up the two Snickers bars between us. Crazy Mary grinned wildly and plucked one of them out of my hand. She gleefully unwrapped the candy bar and shoved it into her mouth as if she hadn't eaten in days. She stopped chewing and looked at me with concern.

"You ain't gonna eat with me?" she said through an open mouthful of missing teeth, peanuts, and sticky nougat that I wished I hadn't seen.

"Yeah, sure," I agreed and unwrapped my candy. I made sure to always pick up two Snickers ever since my first encounter with Mary, when she'd asked to share mine. It turns out that she didn't like to eat alone as much as I didn't like not having a Snickers to eat.

Crazy Mary cackled. "Still sure you ain't no vampire?"

"One hundred percent," I said and bit into my Snickers.

Crazy Mary resumed devouring her treat. I had tried giving her a Mars bar once, and she had accepted it, but definitely not as eagerly as the Snickers.

She was the one variable that made taking the bus home an adventure, since I could never predict when she would show up, and then when she did, I never saw her coming. It was like she had ninja powers that she saved just for sneaking up on me.

The familiar strum of guitars filled my left ear as the Foo Fighters prepared to tell me hello and about how they had waited for me, Everlong.

Jaime had our song on her playlist..

It was as if a sharp, white-hot bolt of lightning had struck through my earbud and right into my goddamn heart.

"Holy fucknuts!"

My heart thumping harder than I had felt in a long time. Without a thought, I jumped up and rang the bell. Crazy Mary reflexively scooted over to the empty seat across the aisle, but she was clearly not happy about it. Her head whipped back and forth as she desperately searched for an obvious solution to what was bugging me, her frown more severe as she couldn't find one.

"Hey, where you going? This ain't your stop Bobby!"

"I gotta run an errand," I lied as I staggered toward the door. "See you later!"

"You're a shit liar!"

"I know!" I shrugged. The bus coasted to a stop, and the back doors opened, allowing me to avoid Crazy Mary's judgmental stare. Like a crazy old lady with missing teeth and garlic-breath had any right to criticize. I watched the bus drive away into the early morning traffic and plugged in my other earbud. The Foo Fighters filled my world, and I might have sung along to the chorus as I turned and shambled back down the street. The sun was already spreading its warm light across the tops of a few of the taller buildings as my feet fell into rhythm with the steady thump-thump-thump of my wildly beating heart.

I was heading toward Jaime, going to answer the call she had so obviously put out to the universe.

It was our song.

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Soundtrack: Everlong - The Foo Fighters