legs

I commute by bus or train, not by car. I don’t want to contribute to pollution and global warming; I prefer to use my nastiness for fun.

If I were to commute by car, I’d spend most of my time driving in traffic jams. These jams are constantly stopping and starting; driving in those situations is tense and unpleasant. Commuting by bus means that unpleasantness is handed to a professional, and I can relax and do (a limited range of) other things. I normally listen to podcasts.

There are unexpected advantages to commuting by bus, compared to the train. The bus crawls along the motorway among the cars. The cars are driven by commuters. Some of those commuters are pretty women, dressed in formal business suits. Some of those formal business suits give sight of pretty legs. From a bus, unlike from a car, I look down into the driving space, so I see those pretty legs. It’s not exactly an intellectual thrill, glazing at ladies’ legs, but it’s one of those things I’m programmed by evolution to enjoy, so I do. Thank you, ladies!