Knitting on the bus...

The other day I was taking the bus on my commute to work when I saw a peculiar sight. An attractive late 20-something girl in scrubs who was listening to her headphones and in her hand holding a circular wire loop with what looked like the start of a sweater sleeve attached to the inside. She was concentrating on near-effortlessly coordinating multiple complicated moves with her two knitting needles and a third tooth-pick like object to guide the canary yellow string into its' rightful place in the meshwork. The degree to which she was engrossed in her task was almost perplexing - who was she making the item for? She did not have a ring on her finger so the obvious question was whether her 'hobby' was somehow related to this fact. At the same time, she definitely did not strike me as the stereotypical image of a spinster. Perhaps the truth lay somewhere in between. To speak the truth, on some level I almost envied her dedication and skill and ability to let everything else disappear into the background while she was handling the task at hand. On the other hand, I almost felt a twinge of pity for her - would she be doing the exact same routine if you fast-forward 5, 10 or 20 years? What if she missed that Hollywood-esque opportunity of meeting Mr. Right who boarded the bus and smiled at her in an attempt to sit next to her and she was too engrossed to notice him. And just when would she be done with her project? Surely, she can't be making an entire sweater, I thought. 


As the bus made its' corner turn and I rang the bell and got up I took one last look at her. She was as immersed in her task as ever, not even acknowledging the woman next to her who bumped her with a purse as she was getting up. As I stepped off and began the short walk to my work building, I had made my mind up: I would not take up knitting. Sure, I could ride on the bus by myself and arrive home to my cat but at least I hoped to not miss Mr. Right should the opportunity ever arose.