jlh | The Weekend of Muses, Part the First (Reply)

So I'm on the bus going to LaGuardia Airport to pick up the lovely

ely709 (who, by the way, walked right past me even though I had a big t00by sign that said "Muses". But I digress).

I'm scribbling away at some Harry/Hermione smut when this strange woman (around 50, greying hair twisted untidily at the back of her head with a large bright blue bow) leans over her seat opposite me and talks to me:
Woman: Are you a writer?
Clio: Yes, I am
Woman: Do you always write on the bus?
Clio: Well, I'm going to pick up a friend, so I'm trying to use the time.
Woman: I write as well. I'm always writing during my 20 minutes on the subway.
Clio: (nods, somewhat frightened)
Woman: Are you published?
Clio: Not yet, but I do have a short story in an upcoming issue of Paris Review.
Woman: Really? What name should I look for?
Clio: Actually, my agent and I are arguing at the moment, which name I should publish under, so I'm not sure.
Woman: Ah, I see.
--later--
Woman: Could you give me the name of your agent?
Clio: He isn't taking any new clients--he took me on as a favor to a friend.
Woman: Ah, right.
Moral of the story: You get what you deserve when you try to talk to strangers on a bus in New York.

On the bus on the way back to Manhattan, we were joined by a dozen very loud, very happy, very energetic Israelis. I love New York. ^_^

Ely is here, doing something top-secret on my kitchen table. Oh, and the fucking elevator is out, of course. ::sigh:: Ely also cleaned my floor while I cleaned the bathroom. I shouldn't have let her, but she wouldn't take no for an answer. So the place is reasonably clean, for once.