Wow, I cannot believe it's June 4th already. Where did the time go? Anyway, so it's been too long since I've posted about the weirdos on the bus, so here you go. Enjoy!
I got off work early today (like 3 p.m. early!) because I finished all my projects and nobody else had more for me to do. Since I didn't drive to the P&R today, I had to get the bus that takes me closer to home. No problem, it's the normal bus. The 435. (The normal bus means business people, non-scary, non-threatening people ride the normal bus.) Well, the bus didn't leave until 3:45 p.m., so I had a lot of time to sit at the stop waiting. Not a problem, it's covered and there was a bench open.
I sit down and start texting friends (of course). This bum is standing next to me and before long another bum comes along. The bum-buddies start chatting. I listen to their conversation, interested in whatever bums talk to each other about. Well, these bums were high-drunk-smoking bums. How do I know? They were telling each other about it. "Yeah, I'm waiting for the bus," said Bum no. 1 (Really? I mean, that's why you're waiting at a bus stop. Brilliant!). "No, man, I'm going clear across to the mountains," said Bum no. 2. "I'm going to get high, you know, smoke some ___________ (I couldn't understand that part)." Then Bum no. 2 asked Bum no. 1 if he was hungry. "Yeah, of course," Bum no. 1 replied. So Bum no. 2 reached in his ginormous duffle bag and pulled out a black plastic bag. "Here, this is some salad I got," Bum no. 2 told Bum no. 1 as he gave him the bag holding the container of salad. "It's good salad." Then they did this weird side-by-side pass off thing and Bum no. 2 gave Bum no. 1 something else. I didn't want to get shot, so I didn't look hard enough (I mean, they were right next to me and I was trying to mind my own business, sort of). Well, then Bum no. 2 left and told Bum no. 1 to take care.
I stopped texting for a moment and started updating my journal. Bum no. 1 sat down. Next to me. He started talking. To me. I'm normally a friendly person, but he was creeping me out. (Why didn't I move, you ask? Because it was raining hard and I didn't want to stand until the bus came.) I surpassed my normally friendly state and ignored the bum . . . as I was writing in my journal about him. Haha, good thing he couldn't see what I was writing.
Then I hear a "pop" sound. I glanced over and saw puddles of fizzy something falling to the ground. Soon after that, I smell alcohol. Yep, Bum no. 1 opened a can of beer. Miller Genuine Draft to be exact. The weird part? He kept hiding it in his coat pocket. Yes, an open can of beer inside his coat pocket. Odd.
Anyway, just as I was getting squeamish about sitting so close to a soon-to-be-drunk bum, the bus came. I got on and hoped he wouldn't follow me. He didn't; he was too content with his beer and salad. What a day.
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