There are few things more awkward than meeting an acquaintance on the bus and having nothing to say. Yesterday on my way to class at the Medical College, a classmate got on the bus at the Marquette campus. At the time, I had been reading one of the books for class. He nudged me as if to say hi; I moved over to the next seat so he could sit down. After the usual greetings, which lasted all of 2 minutes, there was nothing left to say. I wanted to keep on reading my book, but felt that was rude so I put it back in my knapsack. After all, he had put his music away. And for the next 20 minutes or so, we sat side-by-side, separated by merely 2 inches, in absolute silence. I racked my brain for possible small talk topics but came up blank. I was trapped in a state of limbo where all I could do was hope that the bus would miraculously warp to the Medical College and end this miserable sentence of having to stare aimlessly straight ahead--not out the window because that would seem like I were ignoring him and not right at him because, well, that would frankly be very odd. The bus didn't warp anywhere but I was equally miraculously saved by a sudden spell of fatigue that overcame him. At around Harley Road, he began to nod off and absolved me the responsibility for conversation. Of course, I couldn't continue my reading lest I wake him from his tenuous slumber. But still, a wave of relief came all the same. I'll have to remember that trick and pretend to fall asleep next time I meet him on the bus. It'll be my turn to keep the awkwardness out.