Ride of shame

By Ellen

It was pouring rain. A woman got on the #51 to Portland via Vista at 8:45 a.m. in lucite platforms and a backless--and almost frontless--minidress. Her platinum blond hair, worn loose down her back, was soaking. As was the rest of her. She must have been in her early 20s, and was really quite pretty, outfit and flower tattoos aside. She paid in change from her large pale pink bag (which was stuffed with something, but not an umbrella or jacket apparently) and sat clutching it in one of the front seats. She had to ask the driver where the bus was going. She said she heard it went downtown. I spent the rest of the ride wondering what cad could have sent her out in the rain without giving her an umbrella.