Fraulein Heimlich und Herr Prince Charming

Waiting at a bus stop, wondering whether to sit down and cross my legs or to stand up and consciously not fold my arms across my chest at all costs, I decide to pace the length of the bus stop and keep on the lookout for my husband to be.
A woman, lets call her Fraulein Heimlich stares at me, I feel strangely flattered as she most probably is loving my new H&M bag and subconsciously is noting that she should shop more often and get rid of her parka which looks as if it is 5 sizes too big.

Her hair is pulled tight back into a dominatrix style bun, her nonexistent lips are painted with a matt burgundy red lipstick. Exasperatedly I claw at my palms to stop myself from delivering unsolicitated advice.... I mean every self respecting woman knows it is essential that she should use a vibrant glossy colour, and that her sad excuse for lips would look luscious if she outlines them in a similar colour. The likely prospect of being battered to death by a complete stranger stops me in my tracks.

Her stance is rigid, eyes are now fixed to a miniscule point in the distance, she probably is visualising the 188 roaring towards us, bus driver profusely apologising for his inferior service...

We can all dream I suppose.

As the bus nears she moves quick, judging from her speed and agility she must have been a ballerina, she probably still is under the tutelage of Frau Grubleinachtung.
The door opens and she gets on the bus before me, naturally, after all she was there first and the English have a great knack for appearing civilised and courteous.

Yeah right.

That afternoon who should I find, swiftly climbing aboard the top deck of the 188? Fraulein Heimlich herself!
Looking around for unoccupied seats she takes a look at the one next to me, and in one theatrical ballet jump she sits down next to me. As if by magic her stance changes to rival one of a cina doll, I couldn’t tell whether she was breathing or not.

Her eyes again fixed in the far distance, maybe she was looking for Herr Prince Charming, hoping, waiting, praying for him to come zooming to block the front of the bus in his black Jaguar (Herr Prince Charming in the 21st century has not a white car, it looks too cheap yah!)

N.B. In case you did not know the revolt by the Prince Charmings of Luxembourg in September of 2000, has led to all association of the afore mentioned party with white stallions to be ceased made effective from January 2001, this brought about the world famous case of Charming vs Disney 2003 where Disney was ordered to change the transportation mode in of the aforementioned party in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs to a Jaguar C-Type. Disney filed an appeal and the case is still ongoing.

She imagines he presses the emergency button on the outside of the bus, the doors open for him and in leaps and bounds he comes charging towards her, arms open, ready to catch her. He grabs her passionately and carries her of the filthy, stinking, putrid, germ ridden bus and into his Jag. They drive off into the distance and live happily ever after, or so I imagine her fantasy goes, as she is still transfixed in the distance 30 minutes on.

We both get off at the same stop she first as being the way she is he went downstairs the previous stop. We part our ways at the bus stop, and I will most probably never see this fascinating woman again