IN NEED OF CONVERSATION, AM FRIENDLY, WILL TALK TO ANYONE AND MAY EVEN DATE YOU

Sometimes I wonder if there’s a sticker on my forehead that says “IN NEED OF CONVERSATION, AM FRIENDLY, WILL TALK TO ANYONE AND MAY EVEN DATE YOU.”  Because I am a magnet for every fucking weird-sauce on God’s green Earth.

This morning, for instance.

It’s about 7 A.M.  I’m all ready for the day, head in the game.  I’ve got my coffee in hand and as I walk the three blocks to the bus stop, I can’t help but smile.  It’s beautiful outside! Fall is on its way! I’m wearing pants and I’m not melting into a puddle of sweat!  It’s awesome! Woohoo!

Bus rolls up.  I get on.  And since I’m only on the bus for about three stops before I get off, I usually like to sit up front – makes it easier to maneuver, ya know?  So I see an open spot right between a young man in an athletic sweat suit and an older man in shorts and a Tshirt.  I take a seat, put my purse in my lap and bring my coffee to my lips when all of a sudden, old tshirt/shorts man to my left decides to scare the shit out of me.

“HAVE COFFEE, WILL TRAVEL (insert wheezing laughter).”

*Realize he’s referring to my coffee.*

“Oh, ha. Yes.”

“I’M GOING TO TARGET TO GET A WATCH THIS MORNING.”

*Realize he’s referring/pointing to my watch.*  “Oh, uh, that’s nice.”

“YEAH, I MESSED UP MY LAST WATCH. I’M REAL HARD ON MY WATCHES. I MEAN, I’VE HAD SOME EXPENSIVE ONES OVER THE YEARS – LIKE WATCHES OVER $1000, BUT THEN THE WIRE BREAKS AND IT COSTS $300 JUST TO FIX IT AND I’M THINKING – HEY! I COULD’VE BOUGHT A WHOLE NEW WATCH FOR THAT MUCH!”

*Continues to not make eye contact and instead stare out the window in hope he will shut the fuck up and leave me alone.*  “Oh. Yep.”

“THAT’S WHY I’M GOING TO TARGET. I CAN PROBABLY GET A GOOD WATCH FOR $20-30. I HATE GOING TO MACY’S. I MEAN I COULD PROBABLY GET A GOOD WATCH FOR $60, BUT WHY?”

“Mmmmhmmm.”

“I JUST GOT IN A WORK ACCIDENT YESTERDAY. *touches left hand to chin* THE STITCHES ON MY CHIN ARE HEALING, BUT MY BLACK EYE JUST STARTED SHOWING.”

*Realize with horror that even as I am blatantly ignoring him, he wants me to see his black eye, so he reaches fingers that just touched his healing stitches and taps my left shoulder so I can view the wondrous blackened eye socket.*

“YEAH, BUT I’M ON A BUNCH OF PAIN KILLERS NOW SO IT DOESN’T HURT.”

“Oh, um…that’s good.”

“AND I’M A RECOVERING ADDICT SO I PROBABLY SHOULDN’T BE ON THEM, BUT AFTER THREE DAYS IN THE HOSPITAL NOT BEING ABLE TO SLEEP OR EAT I FINALLY SAID, BRING ON THE MEDS!”

“Oh.”

“I’VE GOT SO MUCH MONEY IN MY POCKET RIGHT NOW, IT’S GONNA BE DANGEROUS GOING INTO TARGET! HA! DON’T KNOW WHAT KIND OF DAMAGE I’LL DO. I JUST MOVED TOO AND IT COSTED ME (*yes, he said “costed”*) $800 AND I’M STILL RECOVERING FROM THAT AND JUST BARELY GETTING BY SO…”

*Holy fuck. Go away.*  “Oh. Ok.”

“I MEAN, I NEVER MESSED WITH PILLS BEFORE, SO I’M OKAY.”

“Fabulous.”

“SO WHERE DO YOU WORK DOWNTOWN?”

*Stands up to get off bus only one stop in to avoid knowing any more details about his probable felony record and stints in prison*  “Target.”

“OH, LOOK AT THAT! AIN’T THAT FUNNY!”

Hilarious, my friend.  Now please excuse me while I go shower and bleach my clothing.

I hate the bus.

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