Lion Sack

To the Mick Jagger-esque (circa 1968) man-child on the southbound M5 with the very large stuffed lion peeking out of a big white plastic bag:
I only agreed with you that the lion “really looks real” because I thought you were incredibly sexy, the way you stood there by the back door, waiting for your stop, your hair curling haphazardly onto your forehead due to the rain and drizzle.
When you told me you were actually taking it back to the store, and I said, “Awww, that’s sad,” and I smiled, I didn’t mean the smile. I was disappointed in you.
But when you said, “It’s OK. He’ll find another Dad,” I thought you were sexy again.
After you exited the bus, turned around to smile at me one more time, and I waved to you, smiled, and quietly said, “Bye”, I realized that I would probably never see you again.
I just want you to know, though, that if this were 1983 and I was still in that, uh, “phase” that I was in back then, I would have followed you off the bus. And tomorrow morning we’d wake up with the lion between us.