I see them everywhere now,
when I'm waiting on the street corner to catch a connection, when I'm riding the elevators.
They're that old lady with the "I love Buses" pins, crowding close to you on the 10 line, whispering to you about their love for buses like it's a fuckin secret.
They're that stranger standing next to you at the la... screw it, let's talk about the old lady instead
Minding my own god damn business, jus trying to get out to a study session.
I sit in the back of the bus when I ride alone. Nobody wants to make all that extra effort walking to the back so I usually don't have to worry about assholes. That 10 foot hike to those back two seats might as well be the Manhattan marathon for your run of the mill cripple or mild retard, but not crackpots.
She made her way onto the bus, slowly, methodically, shaking, but not a good shake like Parkinsons, or as more of my fans call it "the groove."
This women's old bones were getting so brittle, you could actually see ground bone dust sprinkle out of her asshole, yet when she saw me, sitting in the back of the bus purposely trying not to make eye contact looking out the window masturbating, she sprung to life.
Her shrilly voice echoed throughout the bus, bouncing off the walls and piercing my ears, like Katherine Hepburn broadcasting windup toy noises through tin cans on strings out of someone's asshole.
"Ya Know?!!" she squealed as she skipped up to me, using one hand to hold her oversized beret which may have actually been an attempt to keep her wig from falling off her old head and onto her sagging face, thereby smearing her clown make up onto her oversized fake fur coat and her knew highs which are at her ankles with the garter straps dragging on the floor.
I knew what she was going to say already because her other hand is brandishing an I love buses pin, roughly the size of a baby whale hanging off her string of fake pearls, which I assume is just there to catch the run off for when her turkey neck succumbs to gravity and explodes to the ground.
"It's ok, I know," I say pointing to her pin, "I know all about it, we don't have to go through this."
I bit my lip and waited a second as she looked up at me head cocked like hamster playing with a harmonica,
"I love buses," she finally let out craning her neck down low to look me in the eye, from two inches away,
"Great that's Great," I look around to plot an escape route
"people don't show busses the respect they deserve," she was definitely starting something long, "Why just the other..."
"HEY YOU KNOW WHAT?," I screamed cutting off her story before she made it into the annoying part,"I just learned something, and it's thanks to you," I said, watching her face glow as she beamed at me. No doubt she was wondering what she had taught me,
"you see, " I continued getting out of my seat and Lighting up a cigarette, " I usually beat up cripples and retards," her face dropped, and she made the kind of confused face that could be confused with an "I shit myself" face.
"I know," I said nodding consolingly, "it was wrong." I put my arm around her shoulder and walked her slowly up to the front of the bus with me.
"because you see," I continued, "retards and cripples are people who just kind of got the short end of the stick from god. They don't mean any harm to me, and to hurt them is like killing a mockingbird,"
She looked up at me like a native would to an anthropologists whom they confuse with a minor deity, but in an annoying way like long strings of pointless metaphors that slow down the pace of the entire story.
I backhand bitch slapped her across the yellow line when the bus banked left hard, sending her down the steps and through what we thought was shatterproof glass onto the highway into the loving arms of a sewer grate.
" but not you," I said walking back and settling into my seat, waiting.
when I'm waiting on the street corner to catch a connection, when I'm riding the elevators.
They're that old lady with the "I love Buses" pins, crowding close to you on the 10 line, whispering to you about their love for buses like it's a fuckin secret.
They're that stranger standing next to you at the la... screw it, let's talk about the old lady instead
Minding my own god damn business, jus trying to get out to a study session.
I sit in the back of the bus when I ride alone. Nobody wants to make all that extra effort walking to the back so I usually don't have to worry about assholes. That 10 foot hike to those back two seats might as well be the Manhattan marathon for your run of the mill cripple or mild retard, but not crackpots.
She made her way onto the bus, slowly, methodically, shaking, but not a good shake like Parkinsons, or as more of my fans call it "the groove."
This women's old bones were getting so brittle, you could actually see ground bone dust sprinkle out of her asshole, yet when she saw me, sitting in the back of the bus purposely trying not to make eye contact looking out the window masturbating, she sprung to life.
Her shrilly voice echoed throughout the bus, bouncing off the walls and piercing my ears, like Katherine Hepburn broadcasting windup toy noises through tin cans on strings out of someone's asshole.
"Ya Know?!!" she squealed as she skipped up to me, using one hand to hold her oversized beret which may have actually been an attempt to keep her wig from falling off her old head and onto her sagging face, thereby smearing her clown make up onto her oversized fake fur coat and her knew highs which are at her ankles with the garter straps dragging on the floor.
I knew what she was going to say already because her other hand is brandishing an I love buses pin, roughly the size of a baby whale hanging off her string of fake pearls, which I assume is just there to catch the run off for when her turkey neck succumbs to gravity and explodes to the ground.
"It's ok, I know," I say pointing to her pin, "I know all about it, we don't have to go through this."
I bit my lip and waited a second as she looked up at me head cocked like hamster playing with a harmonica,
"I love buses," she finally let out craning her neck down low to look me in the eye, from two inches away,
"Great that's Great," I look around to plot an escape route
"people don't show busses the respect they deserve," she was definitely starting something long, "Why just the other..."
"HEY YOU KNOW WHAT?," I screamed cutting off her story before she made it into the annoying part,"I just learned something, and it's thanks to you," I said, watching her face glow as she beamed at me. No doubt she was wondering what she had taught me,
"you see, " I continued getting out of my seat and Lighting up a cigarette, " I usually beat up cripples and retards," her face dropped, and she made the kind of confused face that could be confused with an "I shit myself" face.
"I know," I said nodding consolingly, "it was wrong." I put my arm around her shoulder and walked her slowly up to the front of the bus with me.
"because you see," I continued, "retards and cripples are people who just kind of got the short end of the stick from god. They don't mean any harm to me, and to hurt them is like killing a mockingbird,"
She looked up at me like a native would to an anthropologists whom they confuse with a minor deity, but in an annoying way like long strings of pointless metaphors that slow down the pace of the entire story.
I backhand bitch slapped her across the yellow line when the bus banked left hard, sending her down the steps and through what we thought was shatterproof glass onto the highway into the loving arms of a sewer grate.
" but not you," I said walking back and settling into my seat, waiting.
