[Center][H1][B]ANDREW[/b][/H1][/Center][hr]

[h3]LARISSA   |   The Sound[/h3]
[INDENT][I][B][sup]May 2016[/sup][/B][/I]

[INDENT]
Buses were boring. Seriously. Booooooring. 

Ordinarily, Andrew wasn’t exactly against a chance to just sit around, exert no effort to get where he was going, and people watch. Free entertainment, right? There was some expense, but not as bad as having to pay for the gas himself. And maybe boring was too strongly neutral. 

Boring implied that he wasn’t finding the kids loudly proclaiming their right to ring the bell whenever the answer to ‘Is it this stop?’ was a yes amusing. Or that the punk kid with the mohawk, were those back in? Had they left? Did he care? who kept almost skewering the girl behind him every time the bus jolted and then apologizing profusely while a taller guy beside him had to lean out of the way wasn’t absolutely hilarious. Apologetic tough guys were funny. 

But what boring couldn’t cover was the reek of too many people jammed into too close a space, jostling for elbow room and not quite holding each other up through unwelcome invasion of personal space. Mornings were doable. People were tired, yawning, mostly asleep on their feet anyway, and those that weren’t still had the energy to smile and remember their manners. It was going home at the end of the work day, sweaty and grimy and probably not too sweet smelling himself, that really did in the idea of wonderful humanity. 

Buses were hell.

Too strong? 

Meh, he missed his bike. 

And his face felt like an elephant was stepping on it. Or maybe sitting, since it was stuffy enough he was finding it hard to breathe. He just knew the bruise would be some godawful shade of lemony green and aubergine, or something pretentiously difficult to miss. He probably had a bit of a black eye, too. Dirt lining his shirt collar and in his shoes, between his sweaty toes, and it wasn’t even that warm outside. Buses had their own climate. He was tired, hungry, bruised, aching and could [i]not[/i] wait to get a room temperature shower when he got home. 

Then, ideally, he’d just have fallen face down on the couch and started snoring. Out like a light. Unfortunately, he had a prior engagement slightly more important than the upholstery. Mackenzie knew him well. Free food and good music was a pretty easy sell for him, since he was working with a low salary, and this opening couldn’t have been timed better if they’d planned it. He’d called his inbox that lunch, received the out of the blue message and promptly called Dr. Maddison. 

Honestly, he’d been planning on saying thanks, but no thanks, and just booking a regular appointment, but they’d been backed up enough that this might well have been his best opportunity, and booking a surgery for a full operation to replace the lot (which might have been necessary anyway, since they wouldn’t know the full extent of the damage until after the check-up) could have taken the same amount of time as getting in first(-ish) on the waiting list.

Dr. Maddison had been able to convince him that it was at least worth checking out. She’d seemed excited, and he knew her well enough to understand that she meant it. No upselling. So, he’d said, yeah, sure, thanks, made an appointment for the next week, earliest convenience in case someone cancelled before then, and wished her a good day right back before hanging up. And now… Now he was regretting letting her talk him into it.

He just needed some ice, a few advil, and a long sleep. He didn’t need to socialize. Too late though. It was almost 6. He couldn’t cancel with only two hours to go until the car picked him up. And he’d never liked being wishy washy. He made a decision, he stuck with it. So, like it or not, tired or not, he was going. Hopefully the shower would see him feeling more energetic…

[center]****[/center]

Showered, cleaned up, cooled off, hydrated, dinner eaten, advil taken… He was a new man. A new man who wasn’t sure what you were supposed to wear to a tech opening. Casual was probably pushing it. Ripped jeans or shorts were a no. He didn’t have a whole lot of options, though. Formal just wasn’t his thing. But he could still look properly put together. As long as he wasn’t sloppily dressed, Janelle had figured he’d be good. And, she’d pointed out, he didn’t have anything that went with his purple face either. He’d thrown his pillow at her. 

Never trust a girl not to make fun of a guy having wardrobe troubles. She had helped him though, in the end, for which he’d be eternally grateful, otherwise he’d have spent the rest of his time staring into his closet, absolutely lost. Now, he had on nice, dark jeans, a blue dress shirt he couldn’t remember buying, and a jacket because, despite the bus experience, it wasn’t actually that warm, and you never knew if venues had air conditioning. Though, thinking on it now, as a car pulled up and asked if he was going to the opening, Andy? He supposed he might as well have been wondering if they’d have lights, given the most recent electrical troubles. 

Ah well, as long as no one wanted him to run anywhere tonight, or move his head too fast, he could manage. He liked Dr. Maddison. And since his mood had improved, he was sort of curious about this new tech. Might be interesting, if he could understand any of the explanation. Heh. Well, time to go, he’d find out when he got there, right?
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