Wet BusStop Seats

Today, my Father sent me on a quest to purchase myself "sensible" shoes.

So, green notes in hand, I walked in my 'not-so-sensible-okay-for-walking-here-and-there-but-not-proper-walking-around' shoes to the bus stop.
Where, coincidentally, is where a green bus heads.

When I first arrived, there was a lady there. She was, let's say, the opposite of me. Like, pretty much, absolutely, opposite.
To paint a picture: She was smoking, her face of covered in make-up. And no, not your normal eyeliner and whatever that other stuff is called, but a lot.
Mind you, I didn't stare. A glance was enough.
She was pretty much the same height as me, although not so surprisingly, a tiny little bitty bit taller.
Long died hair. Huge sparkly bag. Headphones blaring in her ears.
I was not standing close, yet I could identify the song. (Don't Trust Me - 3Oh!3)

Then, this other guy came.
The opposite of her.
So, double opposite from me.
He was wearing a big hoodie, listening to his iPod, kept to himself.
By keeping to himself, I mean, the other lady put her stuff all over the wet seat. Why? Dunnz.
Nothing really else much to say.

So, with these three people in mind, (Krystal, Jesse and myself)* we were standing really quite awkwardly at a wet bus stop seat.
Wet bus stop.
Bus stop, which was wet.

It was all quite awkward, and really quite awkward.
Even for the people driving past.

I guess everything comes in three's. I even saw Anita, Kenzie and Roberta walking (this is way, wayyy wayyy after the wet bus stop incident) and you know, like, three people.

The point? I got shoes.