I had one helluva morning. And no, not in a good way. And in a tangent, I do so adore the strength and focus one draws upon words when they are rendered in italics.
So first, my car broke down the other night. I can no longer remember which night, I know only that it's also the the night Chicago died. Anyway, the wheels be broken down (don't ask me what's wrong... something electrical?), which means I'm back to bussing it to work again for the time being. Work is in Peoria, and I live in the "Central Corridor" which means I'm spending alot of time on the bus.
This morning I awoke (yes, I was asleep at work--fuck it) to find that it was raining. Steadily. And since I could get ahold of no one for a ride, I realized to my chagrin that I'd have to walk two miles in the damn rain to get to 67th and Olive, which is as far as the bus goes (I was on 80th).
Fortunately, one of my clients loaned me an umbrella (the same one that attacked me two weeks ago--go figure), and so I set off on my journey, and immediately discovered that not only was it raining, but it was also colder than a witch's teat outside.
However, having made up my mind to accomplish my task, I played some Mogwai on the iPod and trudged on. Bitterly. For some time I had to walk carefully on mud, and when I got to some pavement again, I thought of this:
...As I felt the pavement beneath my feet
I trudged on through the raining defeat...
Back to my narrative: About third of the way there, a girl approached me (apparently she pulled over her car and parked it quickly, which I couldn't see due to my psychotic's umbrella). The girl, whose name was Stephanie, offered my a lift and assured me she wouldn't be kidnapping me, as she is a "Jesus freak". No, seriously. She really said just that. They're actually calling themselves that now, I guess.
Stephanie told me that she wants to get her Master's degree in bullshi, sorry, Theology, and then start her own Christian version of CPS, where I assume the goal will be to subvert children by preaching to them as they pull them away from abusive, drunken fathers while explaining that their daddies wouldn't hit them if they weren't sinners.
Pleasant enough, Stephanie dropped me off and continued on with her life, and I found that my bus was waiting for me. Triumphantly I knocked upon the door and watched in growing irritation as the bus driver ignored me for nearly five minutes while I stood, wet and shivering, in the rain (the umbrella only kept my head dry). Finally Le Douche, as I've taken to calling him, opened the door and said only, "You got four minutes."
"Great, I'll be right back!" I replied positively and stepped into Diamond Shamrock and rounded myself up a bearclaw and a hot chocolate, and as I was exiting the door, I watched in horror as Le Douche pulled away, completely abandoning his fellow human being. Stunned, I could only yell and swear, until finally I took off running, as a plan formed in my head.
Onward I ran (after stopping at the light to wait for it to change). Much like in a Cowboy movie, my plan was to head the bus off at the pass (or a residential street that I know the bus turns out of after cruising through the neighborhood a bit). Spilling cocoa on my hand, I ran as best I could while managing an umbrella, unfortunately I came up about 100 yards too short, or about 12 seconds if I was still in shape and dressed for the occasion in a high school track team.
You win this time, Le Douche, but this isn't over yet.
Yelling obscenities at Le Douche and cursing God, I turned back and waited at the bus stop for the next bus. A few moments later the 67 appeared, which took me to Glendale. I drew forth my Bus Book, and upon examining that arcane tome of runic wonders I discovered that the next bus would not arrive for another thirty minutes.
Finding a dry spot beneath the eave of a probation office, I sat down in cold, bitter defeat, to listen to Mogwai and resigned myself to waiting it out.
It was then that I realized that unseen forces are conspiring against me.
After about 15 minutes the bus arrived, and the driver, being much more of the charitable sort than Le Douche allowed me on to wait in the transport's dry warmth, and eventually I got home while pretending to listen to some old man babble about everyone riding horses to save the environment.
He also said "fuck" alot.
So first, my car broke down the other night. I can no longer remember which night, I know only that it's also the the night Chicago died. Anyway, the wheels be broken down (don't ask me what's wrong... something electrical?), which means I'm back to bussing it to work again for the time being. Work is in Peoria, and I live in the "Central Corridor" which means I'm spending alot of time on the bus.
This morning I awoke (yes, I was asleep at work--fuck it) to find that it was raining. Steadily. And since I could get ahold of no one for a ride, I realized to my chagrin that I'd have to walk two miles in the damn rain to get to 67th and Olive, which is as far as the bus goes (I was on 80th).
Fortunately, one of my clients loaned me an umbrella (the same one that attacked me two weeks ago--go figure), and so I set off on my journey, and immediately discovered that not only was it raining, but it was also colder than a witch's teat outside.
However, having made up my mind to accomplish my task, I played some Mogwai on the iPod and trudged on. Bitterly. For some time I had to walk carefully on mud, and when I got to some pavement again, I thought of this:
...As I felt the pavement beneath my feet
I trudged on through the raining defeat...
Back to my narrative: About third of the way there, a girl approached me (apparently she pulled over her car and parked it quickly, which I couldn't see due to my psychotic's umbrella). The girl, whose name was Stephanie, offered my a lift and assured me she wouldn't be kidnapping me, as she is a "Jesus freak". No, seriously. She really said just that. They're actually calling themselves that now, I guess.
Stephanie told me that she wants to get her Master's degree in bullshi, sorry, Theology, and then start her own Christian version of CPS, where I assume the goal will be to subvert children by preaching to them as they pull them away from abusive, drunken fathers while explaining that their daddies wouldn't hit them if they weren't sinners.
Pleasant enough, Stephanie dropped me off and continued on with her life, and I found that my bus was waiting for me. Triumphantly I knocked upon the door and watched in growing irritation as the bus driver ignored me for nearly five minutes while I stood, wet and shivering, in the rain (the umbrella only kept my head dry). Finally Le Douche, as I've taken to calling him, opened the door and said only, "You got four minutes."
"Great, I'll be right back!" I replied positively and stepped into Diamond Shamrock and rounded myself up a bearclaw and a hot chocolate, and as I was exiting the door, I watched in horror as Le Douche pulled away, completely abandoning his fellow human being. Stunned, I could only yell and swear, until finally I took off running, as a plan formed in my head.
Onward I ran (after stopping at the light to wait for it to change). Much like in a Cowboy movie, my plan was to head the bus off at the pass (or a residential street that I know the bus turns out of after cruising through the neighborhood a bit). Spilling cocoa on my hand, I ran as best I could while managing an umbrella, unfortunately I came up about 100 yards too short, or about 12 seconds if I was still in shape and dressed for the occasion in a high school track team.
You win this time, Le Douche, but this isn't over yet.
Yelling obscenities at Le Douche and cursing God, I turned back and waited at the bus stop for the next bus. A few moments later the 67 appeared, which took me to Glendale. I drew forth my Bus Book, and upon examining that arcane tome of runic wonders I discovered that the next bus would not arrive for another thirty minutes.
Finding a dry spot beneath the eave of a probation office, I sat down in cold, bitter defeat, to listen to Mogwai and resigned myself to waiting it out.
It was then that I realized that unseen forces are conspiring against me.
After about 15 minutes the bus arrived, and the driver, being much more of the charitable sort than Le Douche allowed me on to wait in the transport's dry warmth, and eventually I got home while pretending to listen to some old man babble about everyone riding horses to save the environment.
He also said "fuck" alot.
spacekitten:
wow that's quite an eventful day you had 
miserylovescmpny:
Yeah... it was pretty wild.