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Bus Story: Moderation and Useful Household Objects

August 9, 2011

Rarely do I need to stand but the bus is full up. I don’t really mind making the trip on my feet; it makes writing a little trickier, but what’s life without a challenge or two? (A whole bunch easier, Sherman. Next question.) Speaking of challenges, I spy a rider this evening that I sat next to last week. I remember because he was none too pleased then that he had to share the seat. He’s a big fella, with steel-toe boots, camo pants, a teeshirt with some faded death-metal band logo, and topped with a buzzed
mohawk, giving him a planned appearance of menace and intimidation. I have friends who, in the day, could pull this look off, and they were cool, dark and intense. Not this guy. He’s just trying to be scary. In his meat-mitts is a little mobile device – might be an iPhone, I can’t tell because it is lost in the massive fist holding it. He’s playing some game. He was doing the same last week. And, whatever the game is, he’s not very good at it. Explosions of anger burst forth from him regularly, and his face is a mask of frustration and rage. I wish I could grow bigger and scarier, and then swat him in the head with a cold, wet mop. There are plenty of challenges in this world. There are reasons to be frustrated. There are even times to get angry. But not at a game, Ogre Dude. So back it down, lest I smite thee again with the Wet Mop of Reason.

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From → Bus Stories

One Comment
  1. Your fellow passenger sounds a little creepy. And you’re right. Life is too short to be angry at a game.
    I ride the bus quite often and there are always characters. Not bad, on a short trip, but I always got stuck with those borderline types on a long Greyhound ride. But it still beats driving. . .

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