Ain’t Love Grand? (a Tony Comstock guest post)
I am on the Hampton Jitney, west-bound.
There’s just been a little to do, a dust up if you will, at the Amaganett stop.
“What happened?” you ask.
Well it seems that a fellow dropped off his visiting girlfriend at the Montauk stop, then got in his car and raced after the bus catch it at the Amagansett stop, just to give her one more kiss.
The bus driver was charmed. The woman across the isle clucked, “That’s so romantic!”
And the girlfriend?
Well it’s hard to describe how she sounded. She was sitting behind me and I couldn’t see her face, but she sounded almost… embarrassed?
I couldn’t stand it.
I stood in my seat and turned around.
“I’m sorry to be nosey, but I’ve made a few small films about how people love each other, how it gets so deep inside of us. Can I asked you about what just happened? I’ll sit right back down and shut up if you don’t want to talk.”
“He followed the bus!” her voice is almost horrified, but it’s not quite horror. It’s something different.
“Do you feel embarrassed?” I ask as gently as I can.
“No!” now she’s melting, eyes brim, then overflow.
“So he dropped you at the bus in Montauk, then chased the bus here to give you one last kiss?”
“It’s just crazy. Crazy!” she turns to the clucking woman “And I live in Chicago.”
“So it hurts in a good way?”
“It’s wonderful in a good way!” her lip is quivering. It’s time for me to back out.
“It’s a really wonderful romantic thing he did,” and I turn and sit back down in my seat, facing forward.
Over my shoulder I hear her voice, a little more composed now, and with gratitude, “Thank you for asking.”
My friend Alan Jacobs has a post up today about marriage entitled Mutual Society, Help and Comfort. Do yourself a favor and go read it.