Strike three

“Hello”

“Hi”

She was dressed like a fetish doll and not unattractive. Her voice was too loud, though and clipped and her makeup was from last night. “Want to buy a ring?”

“No,” I said softly and looked away. Strike one. The trolley bus lurched along Seymour and stumbled through a switch.

“Want to buy a camera? I have a camera, too. I figure I should sell it. It’ll probably just get ripped off anyway. Want a camera?”

I shook my head and said no again. Strike two. The other commuters were not looking at us. The bus stopped at Robson and many left, a few new travellers boarded. “Want to party a little? We could party some I bet. I’d put a smile on your face that’ll last all day”

I blinked a little. “It’s 7:45 and I’m heading for the office. I really don’t think so.” Strike three.

She looked sad and turned away from me. It was my stop and I left the bus. Behind me I could hear her sharp, loud voice. “Want to buy a ring?”

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