And here's the weird part... NO ONE ELSE NOTICED!
Six people got off the bus with me, and none of them gave him a second glance, they just walked right by the still-leaping fish as they hurried to work. Now, for a few seconds this made me ridiculously happy. My own little bubble of ridiculous-ness to brighten an otherwise gray and tiring morning. Then my brain kicked in and I remembered that there are reasons that more fish don't get up in the morning and decide to dance in the street. That whole breathing out of the water thing.
And then the dancing fish stopped dancing.
Since he was still flopping around a little and attempting to breath, I started running through possible rescue scenarios. If I kicked him into the sewer would he be able to flop down far enough to get to something liquid-like? If I sprinted to my office would I be able to find a bucket fast enough to come back, get him, and take him to the bay?
In the end, I decided to just wait with him since there didn't seem to be enough time to do anything more helpful. Another bus arrived and more people crossed the street in front of us, just as oblivious as the people on my bus had been a few long seconds before. And that was the end of the dancing fish.
I'd like to think that he was a local fish with big dreams of street performing, and decided that that morning he was going to go for it, gills be damned. In his memory, please enjoy the kiwi video. I think that he would have completely understood.
In the words of my sister Christine, if my life was a movie, this totally would have been symbolic of something.