So I'm at the bus today. I'm standing up by this woman. I watch her for a few minutes, and suddenly it hits me.
"You're 29, virgin, and you do yoga."
She looks at me like she's seen a ghost. "How could you POSSIBLY know that?!"
"Your dress pattern suggests you took this bus on the way back from a place where you took up some sort of physical activity - sneakers, yoga pants, blouse. You look tired, but not sweaty, suggesting it was anaerobic. Your nails are painted light purple and your keychain has a Horus Eye in it suggesting you're an adept of one or several forms of counterculture. Your muscle tone is firm but not voluminous, which means you don't partake in weight lifting, but you're obviously in shape, and the way you stretched your neck just now is remniscent of a variety of warmup exercises commonly used in activities that demand flexibility from your body.
You don't wear makeup and your jewelry is simple and modest, implying you're comfortable with yourself but do not want to attract attention. You've probably been that way all your life, content with being in your own little world and not particularly charmed by the idea of a relationship - as such, you never dated, though you likely have many friends you found along the way. This is also a level of maturity one doesn't reach before a certain level of economic and social stability, which means you're past your early twenties but not past thirties yet - your skin would've tipped me off otherwise.
Oh, this is my stop. Good day!"
So I wave and take off.
