Ode to Green Bean Casserole*

Green bean casserole
How I love you so

Just add some French’s Onions
And it’s ready to go

One can of mushroom soup
Only Campbell’s will do

Green bean casserole, such a tasty treat
I want to marry you

And have your green bean babies
Inside that casserole dish

I had you once on Thursday
And enjoyed the leftovers since

I look forward to you every fall
Awaiting our annual tryst

Oh green bean, green bean casserole
Nothing can compare

Well, except for maybe the pumpkin pie
Not that I would dare

I will always be true to you
Green bean casserole

This is now the end of my ode
For I have bared my greenbean soul



*No green beans were harmed in the making of this poem.

The Bus Boyfriend

As an avid rider of Metrobus, the classiest way in town to get to work, I have noticed a certain phenomenon at play, known hereafter as the Bus Boyfriend. A BB (or BG depending on your preference) is an individual you see on a regular basis either at your bus stop or on your actual bus.* You may notice where he works, goes to school or what apartment building he lives in. Perhaps you even sit next to him, though it is a certainty you make eye contact. However, the catch is that you never speak. NEVER. The cardinal rule of the BB relationship is that eye contact is the only method with which the relationship may be maintained. An entire romance of passion, betrayal,and heartbreak may take place within several blocks, the storyline broken only by the nefarious dings of passengers requesting the next stop. The most difficult part of the relationship is of course, when it's over. Several days pass and you don't see him. Oh he must be ill, or out of town (the nerve not to call!!) you think. But then you realize sadly, he just must have just switched lines.


*I write only of a BB as opposed to a Subway Boyfriend (and I don't mean the man who makes your sandwiches) because the same level of intimacy is just not present on the commuter rail. You never meet the conductor, nor are you able to say good morning. You do not see the same people everyday, and the entire idea of gathering underground in what seems to be Dr. Evil's lair (at least in D.C.) is totally immune to the stewardship that a proper relationship requires.