Bus People

The people on my bus seem to get more peculiar by the day. In addition to the previously-mentioned freaks, we've now added Mr. Pissy-Face, Courtney Love, Bird-woman (her head moves like an owl scanning for prey), Edna (from Everwood), Drag Queen, Big-Haired Woman, and Creepy-Wig Woman in the more recent weeks.

Not only do these people look strange, but also they act like total morons. This afternoon's bus-ride was no exception. I hop on the bus at the first stop (so as to be guaranteed a seat) in town and proceed to read my latest find; thus finding a moment's peace before cooking dinner. Suddenly, at the next stop, some crazy midget woman in what could only be described as the outfit of a deranged British nanny parks her ass in front of me. This isn't usually a big deal, but she then decides my lap is a perfect place for her f'ing purse. This isn't a small purse, mind you, but a huge, deranged-nanny's purse...complete with rose tapestry and woven leather straps (she apparently has no taste).

Being the considerate person that I am, I politely brush it off to the side. The nanny glances down at me and then pretends that I am not there. Two seconds goes by before her dirty-ass purse is back in front of me. Excuse me, but I don't know where that thing has been.

I know you women..(some of you, so don't everyone jump down my throat) you put the purse on the floor of the ladies room (after half of you have decided to hover, rather than sit on the seat and have managed to piddle on everything within a 4-foot radius.) You also place it: on the floor of your cubicle, in the front of the shopping cart (where some toddler has leaked through his Huggies), on the counter of the drug store (where the local leper colony gets their meds), on the floor of your car (after having stomped through doggy-doo and the avian flu from some decomposing bird in the yard). In other words THEY'S NASTY, so get them the F' out of my face!

Oh, but it doesn't end there. The bus stops and, being thoroughly disgusted, I'm more than ready to make my exit from the cesspool of germs that is my bus. Does everyone take their turns getting off the bus? NO! There's always that one inconsiderate ass who didn't learn to play nice in school. Today it was Ross (from Friends)'s older, bad-rug-wearing brother, who apparently likes to iron creases in his corduroys, that decided to push past me from behind. I almost said something, but then I looked at his rug and his pants and thought, "this guy has enough problems."

Labels: observations

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