Two things
Sep. 27th, 2005 08:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bronwynrh1. I heart Carl Sagan.
2. I get on the bus today, and sit up front across from two young men. One of these young men had a veritable mop of hair. They were young, sweet-faced boys. A little over a mile into our journey, we stop by the pool where two middle-aged women get on the bus. The second of these climbs painfully onto the bus and then stands there, while she digs in her pocket for change. (keep in mind, she'd been chattering away with the other lady as they sat on the bench waiting for the bus - too busy to get READY for the bus, I suppose) So we wait. She drops her change. We wait some more. She looks for it. She climbs painfully back down one step to retrieve it. She lumbers into the bus and sits next to me, her back to me, arm and elbow hanging in front of me, dangerously close to my breast. The bus begins its jostling journey again. The woman looks across the aisle at the boys and says, "You need a haircut."
*blink* *blink*, say I and the boys as I look up from my book.
"That's where I'm going," replied the polite and shockingly composed mop-headed youth. He catches my eye, we grin and I roll my eyes.
She mutters something and flips her hand through the air. After a few moments, she pipes up again: "Where are you going to get that haircut?"
The bemused young man shrugged, palms up in the air, and said, "somewhere in the mall, I don't know."
My eyes are boggling out of my head at this woman. The boys see me, we exchange grins again. I'm shocked at their composure, because I'm about to lose it.
"You should go to Supercuts! They're really cheap!" *omg she didn't just say that!!* "It's only like $13 and they have lots of great stylists at Supercuts." *NO THEY DON'T* "I go there all the time," says the woman who looks like her last haircut was performed with a pair of plastic safety scissors.
I was really losing it at this point, and the boys could see it. I'm so lucky that woman's back was to me, although she nearly got an earful when I tripped over her on my way out. "Freak," I muttered. What moron sits at the front of the bus and sprawls that way?
Oh right. Nosy morons with supercuts do.
Between her and the shouting obscenities unless they're playing tonsil hockey goths and the loud and incoherent, sagging-pant "urban youth", diaper-smelling blue lady, horizontal stripe-wearing behemoth lady, and 54-oz mug o' diet something pug-faced lady who makes us all stand in the snow so she can have a leg up from the curb. . . and of course we mustn't forget clown-faced lady (seriously!) and the guy who rocks and jostles as he plays a calculator as though it were Donkey Kong and insists on asking every woman where she lives and works.
Go ahead, call me shallow. I'm too shallow to care :)
I hate the fucking bus.
2. I get on the bus today, and sit up front across from two young men. One of these young men had a veritable mop of hair. They were young, sweet-faced boys. A little over a mile into our journey, we stop by the pool where two middle-aged women get on the bus. The second of these climbs painfully onto the bus and then stands there, while she digs in her pocket for change. (keep in mind, she'd been chattering away with the other lady as they sat on the bench waiting for the bus - too busy to get READY for the bus, I suppose) So we wait. She drops her change. We wait some more. She looks for it. She climbs painfully back down one step to retrieve it. She lumbers into the bus and sits next to me, her back to me, arm and elbow hanging in front of me, dangerously close to my breast. The bus begins its jostling journey again. The woman looks across the aisle at the boys and says, "You need a haircut."
*blink* *blink*, say I and the boys as I look up from my book.
"That's where I'm going," replied the polite and shockingly composed mop-headed youth. He catches my eye, we grin and I roll my eyes.
She mutters something and flips her hand through the air. After a few moments, she pipes up again: "Where are you going to get that haircut?"
The bemused young man shrugged, palms up in the air, and said, "somewhere in the mall, I don't know."
My eyes are boggling out of my head at this woman. The boys see me, we exchange grins again. I'm shocked at their composure, because I'm about to lose it.
"You should go to Supercuts! They're really cheap!" *omg she didn't just say that!!* "It's only like $13 and they have lots of great stylists at Supercuts." *NO THEY DON'T* "I go there all the time," says the woman who looks like her last haircut was performed with a pair of plastic safety scissors.
I was really losing it at this point, and the boys could see it. I'm so lucky that woman's back was to me, although she nearly got an earful when I tripped over her on my way out. "Freak," I muttered. What moron sits at the front of the bus and sprawls that way?
Oh right. Nosy morons with supercuts do.
Between her and the shouting obscenities unless they're playing tonsil hockey goths and the loud and incoherent, sagging-pant "urban youth", diaper-smelling blue lady, horizontal stripe-wearing behemoth lady, and 54-oz mug o' diet something pug-faced lady who makes us all stand in the snow so she can have a leg up from the curb. . . and of course we mustn't forget clown-faced lady (seriously!) and the guy who rocks and jostles as he plays a calculator as though it were Donkey Kong and insists on asking every woman where she lives and works.
Go ahead, call me shallow. I'm too shallow to care :)
I hate the fucking bus.
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(no subject)
Date: September 28th, 2005 02:33 am (UTC)She can sit next to Clown Face or the prisoners on work-release as much as she wants. I'll pay the $30 parking fee each month and shorten my commute from an hour to 15 minutes and not worry about my seat being rolled over by Enormous Butt Lady.
(no subject)
Date: September 28th, 2005 12:06 pm (UTC)O, and I get to see the prisoners on medical release, here. Whenever I go over to the hospital, I pass by the ominous-looking key-coded door. Invariably, there will be someone in shackles walking down the hallway, or shackled to a wheelchair.
One day, at the opthalmologists', I walked into the waiting room and thought, "omg, what a tacky orange outfit!. . . . oh. oops."
(no subject)
Date: September 28th, 2005 01:00 pm (UTC)He and Stephen Hawking... amazingly brilliant.
(no subject)
Date: September 28th, 2005 01:22 pm (UTC)Now, I watch it and still laugh from nostalgia, but also feel very very very small. Nothing like a good look at the universe to make you feel insignificant and super-special.
(no subject)
Date: September 28th, 2005 04:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: September 28th, 2005 01:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: September 28th, 2005 01:19 pm (UTC)Heh. I'd have told her to mind her own business, but I realized that such a comment would make me a buttinsky, too :) So I just made faces, instead.
(no subject)
Date: September 28th, 2005 02:46 pm (UTC)by Al Yankovic
Ridin' in a bus down the boulevard
And the place was pretty packed
Couldn't find a seat so I had to stand
With the perverts in the back
It was smellin' like a locker room
There was junk all over the floor
We're already packed in like sardines
But we're stoppin' to pick up more
Look out
Another one rides the bus
Another one rides the bus
And another comes on
And another comes on
Another one rides the bus
Hey
He's gonna sit by you
Another one rides the bus
There's a suitcase pokin' me in the ribs
There's an elbow in my ear
There's a smelly old bum standin' next to me
Hasn't showered in a year
Well, I think I'm missin' a contact lens
I think my wallet's gone
And I think this bus is stoppin' again
To let a couple more freaks get on
Look out
Another one rides the bus
Another one rides the bus
And another comes on
And another comes on
Another one rides the bus
Hey
He's gonna sit by you
Another one rides the bus
Yeah
Another one rides the bus
Another one rides the bus, ow
Another one rides the bus, hey, hey
Another one rides the bus, hey
The window doesn't open, and the fan is broke
And my face is turnin' blue
I haven't been in a crowd like this
Since I went to see The Who
Well, I should've got off a couple miles ago
But I couldn't get to the door
There isn't any room for me to breathe
Now we're gonna pick up more, yeah
Another one rides the bus
Another one rides the bus
And another comes on
And another comes on
Another one rides the bus
Hey
He's gonna sit by you
Another one rides the bus
No
No
Huh?
Yeah
Yeah
(no subject)
Date: September 28th, 2005 02:52 pm (UTC)diaper-stink blue lady sat next to me this morning - almost sat ON me, the vapid bitch. every time she turned the page in her Woman's World rag, the stink wafted over me. *gag*
I swear, if it's not someone who smells like pee or stinky feet or b.o., it's someone who smells like they showered in Eau d'headache.
It's also entertaining to try to guess what the morbidly obese women ate for lunch by looking at the stains on their breasts.
/going to hell
(no subject)
Date: September 28th, 2005 04:05 pm (UTC)