One Mo' Time

Experiences In Midday Bus Riding

There were only 6 people on the Number 1 when I boarded downtown. An older woman, a middle-aged one, and a young woman, plus two men visiting from Seattle who were looking for State Street.

The final person upon whom I laid eyes was sitting across from me, flipping through a catalog of firearms. The wierd part? He was wearing the uniform of a postal worker. I thought, "How fucking scary is that?" And then I'm like singing in my head "Going postal, going postal" to the tune from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, "Going Courtin".

Next stop on the trip was at Roosevelt, where two women and two unruly children got on the bus. The women were loud, country blacks with bad wigs and big rolly bags stuffed full of crap like tube socks and crayons. They proceeded to extol the virtues of Jesus Christ and how those people who died at E2 were at the wrong club - they should have been nightclubbing for Christ. That's why their lives were ended. Cuz they were sinners!

During this diatribe, the gun-shopping postal worker looked over at me and mouthed something related to the loud women. I merely smiled, knowingly. I chose otherwise not to engage this potentially dangerous individual.

Once the women exited the bus 10 blocks later (right across the street from E2), I breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment. It turns out the middle-aged woman referenced in the first paragraph was not engaged in a telephone conversation as I'd first thought. From my angle, it appeared she was holding a telephone to her ear.

As I moved toward the front door to get off this looney tunes bus, I saw that she was carrying on an animated conversation with no one. The older woman looked scared.

I turned to the bus driver and and said, "Take care of yourself," and I made haste down the 3 stairs to the street.

posted by La Cabeza Grande @ 5:36 PM