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Almost a Bus Story: Probably Better Not to Have Adamantium Claws

June 3, 2011

I was dive-bombed by an anxious crow parent on my way to the bus this morning, as Enter The Haggis played a dirge-y tune in my ears. I should have paid attention that the universe was alerting me to step carefully today. It wouldn’t have stopped the impact of one issue after another, but perhaps, I would have donned some additional armor. Fortunately, the people I dealt with throughout the work-day did all they could to help or at least appreciate the whirling dervish-ness of what I was battling. So, I left the office, tired but with my faith intact. Until a goofball in a shiny black car decided that crosswalks and pedestrian right-of-way didn’t apply to him. Narrowly escaping crushed kneecaps, I turn up the volume on the happy Vampire Weekend tune. Faith shaken but still intact. I arrive at my bus stop to bring me home, and share a commiseration-filled, world-weary glance with a nice, tired looking woman. Just then, a douchey young man leaps aboard the bus that was just closing it’s door, hurling his lit cigarette stub behind him. It barely misses the nice lady, and lands, smoldering on the sidewalk, as the creep rides off on his bus. Shields collapse. Faith shatters. It’s these times when it is probably best that I don’t have superpowers with which to exact vengeance…nay, justice…on the Horribly Inconsiderate and the Very Rude. What I imagine doing is probably harsher, more fun, and involves less risk of jail time.

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From → Not Bus Stories

One Comment
  1. Yes, I’ve often thought of the ability to lift cars with rude drivers in them off of the road and deposit them far, far away. Not to kill, just to warn.

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