the bus ride

I was carry a poster of dinosaurs on the E bus into Geneva for the son of my "French Daughter" whom I was meeting for lunch.

The man across from me was trying to see it so I turned it around. He smiled.

Next to him was a man in a nice suit, raincoat, short blond hair in a perfect cut. He was talking to the older woman who sat next to me.

He was saying how much he liked President Regan. "He was a much better manager than say President Carter who micro managed everything."

He spoke with a perfect Swiss French accent but he carried a paper cup of coffee making me wonder if he were American. Carrying food and drink on the streets and on buses isn't all that common for the Swiss.

His knowledge of American politics was in-depth and so was his knowledge of the current French elections.

At Eaux Vives the woman started to get off, but her coat jacket string was caught between the seat and the wall. By the time she freed herself, the bus had moved on.

I couldn't resist. I asked the man's nationality. He was Swiss with an American wife. He asked if I was American and I said ex.

"Impots!" said another man.

"Les Banques," I said.

"Ah Fatca," the man said knowing how American expats are being shut out of financial services because of American pressure.

Then the subject switched to the dinosaurs and the exhibition at Palexpo. The man was planning to see one in Paris tomorrow.

Another woman joined the conversation.

The bus arrived at the destination five people who were no longer strangers got off the bus and went their separate ways. Who says bus rides are boring?