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I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else My Profile
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Now i remember why I loath public transport so much. Not simply because the people I meet there are shell-suited, hairsprayed common slags but because it seems impossible to make a ten minute journey last only ten minutes. Yesterday I had the bus journey from hell. Having become bored with my work earlier than expected and persuading a J Bo to meet me for a liquid lunch, I was first forced to wait 25 minutes for an 'every ten mintues' bus. Hair huge from the wind and nipples erect from the only chilly spot by the bus stop, I finally got on the bus. Of course because it was late I was not permitted a seat to myself and had to share my reading space with fat elbows and greasey hair. And obviously because I had said to J Bo I would meet her in ten minutes the bus would proceed to stop at every stop and let on a further 15 people each go. And then of course my reading flow was rudely interupted, not by fat elbows digging even further into my crotch (some people have no respect for personal space), but by a maniac in a boiler suit trying to clamber onto the bus whilst hurling obscenities and scratching his bollocks through his piss smeared overalls. Smart. Bus driver yells and gesticulates frantically, man gets off, bus driver goes to pull away from the kerb and maniac shoves his hand in between the door. A further fight ensues and a further ten minutes later we are finally allowed to drive on. So now I am about 40 minutes late. Can anything else, aside from the missing every green light, go wrong? Because I want and need beer, of course it can. I am some stops away from The Bo when a shiny new car thinks he is smart and pulls and in front of MY goddamn bus. One emergency stop later and we are thrown embarrasingly forward to cries of 'ah' 'fuck' 'we're going to die' 'i just want a fuckin beer'. Oh the shame of me finding myself with my face in fat elbows mammoth tits as after the throw forward I am thrown sideways violently back. She smells like stale cum with a hint of four-week body odour. As does my hair now. Of course because of the trauma we have to vacate the bus and walk the remainder of the way to our destinations. One sweaty, pissed off hour later, I finally get to meet J Bo. All I wanted was a friggin beer and instead I got fat elbows on my crotch, an abrasied knee and worst off all, wind swept hair. Life is so not all good. Nor is public transport.
And so I go to tame these wild locks before getting wasted as tonight is my leaving night. Have a good weekend, my second last til NY baby. Britney Wannabe 
8/02/2003 01:05:00 PM
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Adventures of Charmin |
