Wow. On the way to work today, an insane man hopped on the Circulator. He immediately started bitching about how how it was in the bus, loudly asking the driver if he’d turned the AC on. He then went into a sordid little dialogue that went a little like this:
*mumbles incoherently* Man, everybody in here hot and horny. Smells like pussy up in here. Not fish – it’s definitely pussy – GOOD pussy. Dayum. Dat pussy smell good. *grumbles* Everybody up in here quiet. Ya’ll a bunch of house ni*$%s. Fuckin quiet ass white ni*$%s not sayin’ nothin. *mumbles* What the fuck. Dayum it’s hot. Why don’t nobody open a window? Sheeit.
I have to admit that I was asking the same question myself – about the window that is. It was stifling on the bus, and no appreciable breeze of any kind seemed to be forthcoming from the AC. Only one of the windows was open a crack, and it probably wouldn’t have been so bad had more been opened. Points there for tired, hot, horny desperate ass homeless crazy guy.
He then began an interesting, if comically nauseating banter with the woman beside him, who happened to be sitting behind me. Well, he sounded as if he was sitting behind me, but honey I’m crampin’ today and the LAST thing I needed was for some bugshit crazy homeless guy to zoom in on my personal fuck-off space and start giving me shit because I made the unfortunate choice of picking this particular bus to ride to work.
He proceeded to ask her a whole lot of really crude probing, personal questions. Eventually, I grew tired of his constant beleaguered yammering about how hot the ‘pussy filled’ bus was, so I put my headphones on and started cranking Pharoe Monarch to drown him out. After several stops, he apparently became disenchanted with the people towards the front of the bus and walked past me towards the back. The man’s pants were hangin’ down, exposin’ what looked like very shiny 70’s disco drawers. Very sassy. At least he didn’t smell like a garbage processing distillery as he passed. That was actually surprising. He then began loudly reassuring everybody on the bus that he ‘had it all handled’ now that he was at the back, and that he’d be ‘takin’ care of’ the AC now. I didn’t even want to think what that meant.
Some woman made the unfortunate decision to actually address him several stops before we hit Georgetown, and he started getting in her face, arguing vehemently with her as she got off the bus. She kept trying to say something, but he was apparently having none of it. As he stepped off, and it seemed that he wasn’t coming back on, the bus breathed a collective sigh of relief, although several passengers were laughing about what he had to say. It was all ‘high minded social commentary’ along the lines of, “You all a buncha pussy ass bitch house ni*$%s. Fuckin’ white man put you in yo place and shit.”
Ah, the urban floor show of public transit. And all this for just a dollar!
I almost wish I’d had a tape recorder. Perhaps I should start carrying one.