Plumber bootylicious

Today it occurred to me that some people have rather hairy asses. It wasn’t something I had previously contemplated while commuting on the Culver City Bus. Granted, many a silly thought has lingered on my brain during my daily bus journeys, though today’s epiphany was sparked by the fuzzy rump of a rider who entered the green omnibus on National and Sepulveda. I was in the middle section, listening to Cesaria Evora when I saw the UCLA student flash his ID to the driver on his way to take a seat. I wasn’t actually watching him, though he was in my line of sight so I sort of gazed in his direction as he placed his backpack on the seat aside him. It was then as he leaned over to search one of his pack pockets that I was visually slapped with the image of the crack of his wooly derriere. I turned my head to glance out the window thinking that by now he might lift up his pants to cover up the exposed flesh. After all, didn’t he feel the breeze? Or did his assly tresses insulate against the temperature change?

I couldn’t help but stare. Not because I found his comose tush attractive, to the contrary prior to witnessing his bottom I thought he might have been kind of cute. He looked like he might have been of Middle Eastern descent; he had that curly dark hair/brooding look going for him. But all that beastly flesh just put me off. Still I found myself curious about this man who had a Palestinian bracelet on his arm and spoke in American accented French on his cell phone while I pretended to be listening to my IPOD, secretly ear hustling for any bit of information I might find on my capillaceous co-rider.

Aside from the classic plumber, I hadn’t witnessed as many male cracks as female flashes of arcey flesh. Normally this is a result of hip hugger jeans but the guy today was not metro, nor were his pants too baggy. They seemed to be fitted appropriately to cover up the entire rear end, though I thought at the very least his male panties would cover up his little butt. Or maybe he was going commando.

When he finally turned in my direction it was too late. I had already burst out laughing while thinking about the many ways to describe someone’s fleecy fanny. What was more was that I thought had my six-year-old sister been with me she surely would have started pointing while yelling, “Plumber Butt!”. So In pure Kindergarten fashion I tossed my head back and laughed until tears bled my mascara. I wonder what the guy was thinking as he put his phone down and stared at me until my stop came.