2002-03-28 - 2:37 p.m.
They sat on the bus alongside the radiohead bus driver, vintage velcro nikes, tee shirts advertising states and cities like crumbling iron on billboards. the messy hair they obviously never to rarely combed gave birth to bushy, uneven sideburns that skipped and later became an almost undetectable spurts on their chins. the darker one looked out of place, as though being emo were his last resort as a fashion statement. his red button up short sleeveed shirt was wrinkled and looked as though it had been purchased by a loving mother at j.c. penneys somewhere in the mid-80's. he wore cloudy dirt-washed jeans. the gap. the emo boy stomping grounds. the other had a distinvtive supergrass look about him. the bushy hair and brown vintage courduroys gave him away. radiohead bus driver wore all white, from his adidas three-stripe sneakers to his cargo pants to his white teeshirt and sweater. it looked like a girl sweater. the only color he wore was the aviator sunglasses that he is never without.
i don't know why i stared at them so long. they were fascinating for some reason... like members of an alternate universe stuttering on and on about free admission to concerts and inexpensive beer.
emo boys.
goddamn.
the stories i could tell.
