List and Repeated Cello Story

I am a freak about writing TO DO lists. They're pretty sad, since most days look like this:
Monday (bus)
lunch: walk
p.m.: choir announcements, practice

Tomorrow-Tuesday (drive/cello)
lunch: walk
p.m.: choir, rehearsal

And that's it. I guess it's to remember to bring my cello, since the last time I bussed with the cello I met scary, scary people... It was a dark and stormy night in Spokane (Washington) and I was coming back from being the entire cello section of the Whitworth University Orchestra (so small). A guy settled across the aisle from me and said "Cello, right?" My "um-hum" was to discorage him from talking any more (stranger danger). He seemed normal, with vague tan pants and the usually preppy polo top.

Undeterred by my non-committal "um-hum" he contined, "My wife used to play cello. She was great." I nodded in his general direction, hoping this would resolve itself soon. "It was beautiful to hear. She was in a lot of different groups and would play all different styles." I practiced staring at the window, willing him to shut up. My stop was still blocks and blocks away. He continued, getting louder, as other bus people stared, "She loved to practice all the time until they murdered her. Those bastards, they murdered her!"

I instantly dinged the bell to scamper off at the next stop, completely freaked out. I am always willing to stop at a bowling alley with cello in the rain to get away from scary bus people at night.

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