You see me across the street and look into my eyes and become overwhelmed with a burning urge to meet me. As you walk toward me, a bus comes between us. After it passes, I am gone. Because I got on the bus. The reason you were so captivated by my obvious coolness was because you clocked that I am a person who happily uses public transit. If you wish to meet me again, and to be worthy of it, you must also get on a bus.