The question? ----- "How much?"
How much what?
... do you weigh?
... pain can you endure?
... wood can a woodchuck chuck?
... can you drink without passing out?
... is that doggie in the window?
... pizza should I order for Monday night football with the guys?
... time before we go?
... do you love me?
So ... how am I to respond?
Of course I know they mean "How much is the fare?" But, we have nine different fare zones, and in order to accurately answer the question, I need an inkling of an idea as to the intended final destination. That being said, I'll admit there was a time when I was a fairly accurate mind-reader, but that ability began to diminish when the last of my three children moved out of the house. It's kind of like the "use it or lose it" concept.
During one such verbal exchange I was finally able to elicit a response from a man concerning his intended destination. He boarded at the Golden Gate Bridge and wanted to go to Santa Rosa. When I told him the fare was $8.80, he opened his hand to reveal exactly eight dollars and eighty cents, which made me ask myself, "Why did he even bother to inquire about the fare?" But then again, this is the bus business and dealing with people is what hones my skills, tunes my wit and prepares me for survival in the event that I am chosen to be a contestant on Survivor Island.
In November of last year, our youngest daughter, a victim of the recession, lost her job; three months ago, she moved back home with her four cats, and with her return, I am pleased to report that my ability to read minds is improving.
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