One Way Trip
“You dreamed I was a Greyhound bus driver?” Brian laughed over breakfast in the
loft. “That sounds funny - but I bet I’d be a great Greyhound bus driver all
right – if I ever had the chance….”
”Don’t act like I’m crazy either, Brian Kinney,” Justin defended himself. “You
were the crazy one – the way you were driving on the way home last night.
Melanie must have made you mad about something. Anyhow - that’s why I was
thinking about your driving when I fell asleep and that’s why I dreamed….”
“Well now that you brought up the subject,” Brian pondered aloud, “I think I
might enjoy being a Greyhound bus driver – the joy of the open road - getting
all those folks where they wanted to go…..”
”In about half the time on the Greyhound schedule too, I bet.” Justin had to
smile. “What with ignoring stop signs and red lights and speed limits and….”
“Maybe I should give up advertising and get a job with Greyhound?” Brian
proposed – seriously enough to confuse Justin just a little. “Maybe your dream
was a kind of – omen.”
“Cut it out, Brian,” Justin insisted. “You’re scaring me. “You’re a great
advertiser – the best in the business – and you’d be a really terrible Greyhound
bus driver….”
“So tell me the whole dream, Baby,” Brian insisted back. “I’m interested in what
might just be my entire brief career as a bus driver…..”
“Well - you were driving this express bus to Philadelphia,” Justin told him,
“and you wouldn’t let me get on – and I needed to get to Philadelphia too. You
said I was some kind of a terrorist….”
“That makes sense to me, JT,” Brian allowed. “No Greyhound bus driver needs a
back seat driver to distract him or her from driving - even though there’s like
– about 60 back seat drivers on every bus – and you were a genuine terrorist
last night coming home from Mel’s - with your nagging – always complaining about
my driving….”
“Well I needed to get to Philadelphia, BK,” Justin complained. “And you wouldn’t
let me on the bus. I hope you regretted that mean decision your whole way to
Philly.”
“I don’t think I did, Taylor,” Brian seemed to recall. “Nope – I didn’t. I guess
I had other more important things on my mind….”
“Like what – for example,” Justin challenged him, “besides trying to pass every
speeding truck on the Turnpike….”
“Well if you have to know, Kiddo,” Brian laughed. “When I was pulling out of
that rest stop in Somerset – heading non-stop for the City of Brotherly Love
from there – I remembered that I didn’t know where the Greyhound station was in
Philadelphia….”
“Serves you right, Brian,” Justin complained, “but you know what - you didn’t
have any dream about being a Greyhound bus driver. It was my dream – so you
didn’t have any right to be thinking about anything at all on your drive to
Philadelphia…..”
“So did I ever say I didn’t also dream I was a Greyhound bus driver last night?”
Brian came back. “Maybe I had a dream too – or maybe it was more than a dream?”
“Darn it, Kinney. You’re just making fun of me now, ” Justin grouched without
rancor. “I’m sorry I ever told you about the stupid dream. You’re always looking
for some way to criticize me.”
“And you don’t even have to look for ways to criticize me, Sweetheart,” Brian
smiled as he got up from the breakfast table. “You always have my driving to
fall back on when you can’t think of anything else. You don’t think I could
drive a Greyhound – and I could too – if I wanted. I gotta get going. Want me to
drop you off over at the Institute on my way to the office?”
“Nope,” Justin smiled back at him. “I don’t need to leave quite yet. I’ll do the
dishes and then just take the bus.”
“If they’ll let you on,” Brian laughed as he exited the loft.
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