The Wheels On The Bus

For some reason, I get hit on a lot out here and it all started when I began riding the bus on a regular basis. The oddest part about it is that I do not get hit on by a target demographic. Whether it be a crippled 60 year old homeless man or a pubescent pimply volcano, a coconut bragging about his education at state school or a redneck that can't even spell the words "high school," I have to stay as vigilant as I can as I'm standing out in the freezing cold this time of year. (Which reminds me, I need to start packing heat.)

The most recent incident involved very minimal verbal exchange. The man looked very similar to that tall stupid-looking oaf in the Princess Bride. Here's a pic for a good visual:


When I first got a glimpse of his blank face framed by fatty rosy cheeks, I remember thinking "awww what a cute old man," and by "cute" I didn't mean sexually attractive by any means. (Doubt that I'll ever be that desperate though I have been close.) Anyways it turned out that we got off at the same bus stop and were heading towards opposite directions at an intersection. As we were waiting for our respective pedestrian lights to beckon us across, the cutey giant man let out a huge sneeze, sending his fatty belly flopping side to side as he keeled over to contain himself. "Bless you!" I yelled, feeling like that would be my good deed of the day.

Well it wasn't. He turned to me and gave me a huge stupid grin, his cheeks ablaze as if he were Santa Claus. "Oh my, what did I just do," I thought to myself. It was as if I had awoken a sleeping lion. He proceeded to follow me. First at a moderate pace a few feet behind me. Then from the corner of my eye I saw that he was gaining on me and I picked up the pace. The gaining-speeding up cycle continued for a few blocks until I was practically jogging. By this time my heart was pounding, not from the first form of moderate exercise I had had for days, but from the fear that I would be tackled and raped by this oaf because I just said two simple, caring words.

I ran inside a hippie-coop for cover, hid behind a shelf of tasteless hippie foods and peeked in between the vegan mac-and-cheese boxes to make sure he was gone. Then I realized that I was wearing a pair of leather boots and a fur coat that day and once the coast was clear, I was met with the stares of a mob of angry dreadlocked hemp-clad white people. To this day, I couldn't tell you what was scarier: the prospect of being raped by a fat stupid man or being stoned in public by a bunch of tree-hugging whites. Though in the latter case, I probably would've made national news that was both racially-charged and controversial, and thus become immortalized in the pages of history. But then again, in terms of potential lawsuits, I wouldn't win any significant amount of money, considering that hippies have none.

So what was my lesson of the day?
1. If someone looks to have the intelligence equivalent to a house pet, they probably really are that dumb and it is probably better to not arouse them in any shape or form.
2. Hippies are bunch of self-righteous assholes that probably wear and eat animal products shamefully in private because, lets face it, leather and meat are awesome.