My story for the day

So today I was getting out of the bus in Canberra for my 3'rd last MuST class ever (so sad!!!), and I saw something that made me smile. In fact, it cheered my up so much that I thought it might just be worth sharing with the readers of my blog.

The first character of the story was a frail-looking old man who I shall refer to as Mr. Hendrickson, since I don't know his real name. He was, like 99% of the old people who travel on the bus, the sort of person that comes across as a very slow, serious person - the type that still lives back in the time that they were born. Or so it seemed momentarily, anyway.

Enter Ms. Cartell (again, I don't know her real name), a complete stranger to myself, Mr. Hendrickson, and anyone else around at the time. At the time of the bus's arrival, Ms. Cartell was emerging from the shopping block carrying a small white rectangular box - you know, the sort of box people carry pies, cakes and other stuff in. Ms. Cartell was just the average working woman in her 40's, minding her own business and enjoying the sunshine while walking across the park.

Upon exiting the bus in the deliberate, steady manner so characteristic of the aged population, Mr. Hendrickson lifted up his head to see Ms. Cartell walking across the park with the aforementioned box in her hands. Suddenly something about Mr. Hendrickson changed when he caught sight of the box and utilising a sudden burst of energy, he ran - or should I say hobbled rather quickly - across the park to Ms. Cartell, and confronted her with a certain degree of abruptness. Mr. Hendrickson's new attitude was comparable to that of the excitement of a young child when they catch sight of the lollipop stand in a supermarket when he lifted up his radiant, beaming face in anticipation to ask Ms. Cartell in a voice quaveringly high with excitement, "Are *excited panting* - are those (pointing to box) - Krispy Kremes?"

With commendable presence of mind for somebody who had just been confronted in a rather surprising manner by an excitedly energetic 80-year-old, Ms. Cartell replied sympathetically, "No, I'm sorry. I'm afraid they aren't." 

The look of disappointment on Mr. Hendrickson's face was rather disheartening, so much so that I wished I could by him a Krispy Kreme donut and see his happy, childlike eagerness return. As everyone returned to their business and went their separate ways I thought to myself - no, I didn't think of some life lesson to be learned from it - actually, I thought, "Well that was a rather funny happening! Pity about the anticlimax, though."

Looking back on it, though, I do have one thing to share from the story: I want to be as cool as Mr. Hendrickson when I get old. 

And that was my story for today. Yes, feel free to tell me how much I fail at telling stories; I know it's all true.

P.S. My new favourite word is rather.