Got a new (second) job, been spending the last week in a long send-off for my friend that is moving to Colombia… and having a huge mental store of all the insane shit that has gone down in the interim. Oh what fun!
First, we have Miss Florida. Yes, the Miss Florida, the competition to send scary, dysfunctional, mentally handicapped and embittered women on to become our U.S. representatives in some little thingy called Miss World. I had to work this, see. And deal with the women. … and take apart their stage with a very angry French set designer. I cannot even begin to describe the *fun* I had… because little existed. While I do utterly and inexplicably love my job, I do not often love the client.
While the women in the event were … questionable, my main concern was with the audience. The parents, boyfriends, husbands and families of these critters were amazing. It was like watching the spectators of a dogfight, but perhaps in more Gucci. People screaming, holding signs, yelling “Go, (enter trendy female name,) go! You can do it!” They would throw down anything in their hands if their particular vagina didn’t win, storming off to grasp a cell phone so tightly it bled battery acid and scream at whatever hapless victim made the mistake of answering their phone.
Moving on, because reliving this makes me have the PTSD twitch.
So. I also had a fabulous day on the bus this week… a day where, on all six buses I rode, a new crazy was there to make me smile. Or flail in horror. Whatever, it’s all relative. So, a simple breakdown:
Bus #1, Route 42
“Heeey man. I’m … on drugs, man. What … awww… I’m so many drugs, man. I’m drugged, man. Man, dude… I’m sooo fucking wasted.”
He spent most of the ride babbling this while randomly throwing punches at his own backpack.
Bus #2, Route 2
Random woman: “What?”
Random woman: “I don’t understand you.”
Random woman: “WHAT?”
Mr. Mumbles: “I SAID YOU HAVE A NICE SMELL YOU WHORE.”
Bus #3, Route 7
WWJD Lady: “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus is the ONNNNLLLLY answer, people. Why y’all goin’ to this damn house of Satan? Why! Why must you ruin yerself for Jesus! God loves you, alla you!”
Grinning college kid: “Lady, this is a SCHOOL. Satan is what, like, the smart one?”
Grinning college kid #2: “Haha. She said “God loves Allah.”
WWJD Lady: “YOU ALL GONNA BURN IN HELL!”
I then was at work, and magically… nothing happened. Of course, I had to eventually leave work, sooooo…
Bus #4, Route 7
Hippie: “Can I bum a smoke?”
Me: “Can you roll one?”
Hippie: “Dude, look, ok, I’m sorry, I like, I am on probation for that shit, ok? Dude, like, ok, let’s just … nevermind, ok?”
Me: “This … is a tobacco pouch. With tobacco in.”
Hippie: “Oh… no, thanks. That shit’s bad for you.”
So … I’m not sure exactly what it was he was after, then.
Bus #5, Route 1
Junkie: “Hey… what day is it?”
Skater kid: “Um, Thursday?”
Junkie, to old man: “What day is it?”
Old man: “What the kid said. Thursday.”
Old man: “The hell is wrong with you?”
Junkie, to me: “What da–“
Me: “Thursday. Thursday. The day after Wednesday, and the day before Friday. Thursday.”
Junkie, to skater kid: “Man, you got any weed?”
Older lady: “You need to lay off the crack.”
Junkie: “Fuck you! It’s meth! I loved meth!”
And finally… my personal favorite had to come last, of course.
Bus #6, Route 10
Drunk hobo #1: “See that girl over there? I’ma tell her I love her.”
Drunk hobo #2: “I… don’t …. I dunnnooo.”
DH1: “Hey! Hey! I love ya!”
Me: “… ok.”
DH1: *to random guy* “Have a beer with me!”
Guy: “How about no!”
DH1: “Ok! Hey, lady! I like ya! I love ya! I want summore of ya!”
DH2: “I don’t think it’s working.”
DH1: “Hey, lady, have a beer with me. I just wanna tell ya I love ya.”
Me: “I don’t drink beer. I don’t love you.”
DH1: “Look, I know I’m hotter than any guy you’ll get.”
Keep in mind he looked like a half-dead hybrid of Jimmy Buffet and Gary Busey. Not kosher.
Anyway! This is long enough. I’ll slap something else up tonight. I am typing this half asleep and have more to post later.