96. At the Bus Stop

Headed for the bus stop early Sunday morning after an all night shift.  A chilly but calm and foggy winter morning--actually not bad weather for a bike ride.  A young woman listens to a fiftyish man in a wool winter overcoat.  The kind of guy you would expect to be a salesman at Nordstrom or maybe a hospital administrator (I have a limited world view).  In a few minutes he comes over to me and asks if I would be interested in a copy of the "Watchtower."  I decline.  He then climbs into the passenger seat of a nearby Suburban-type SUV with a woman driver, and they leave. I wonder if at the next stop she'll be the one who gets out.