Thursday, March 31, 2005

Riding the Bus

After work today I walk out of the building and out the gate, up Omnibus Lane, right onto Ultimo Road, left along Harris Street to Broadway and across to Railway Square. That's where I catch the bus home.
I lean against the railing and pull my book out. I read a paragraph then look up to see if the bus is coming, then look around at the other people. My eyes almost pop out of their sockets to see a tall and brown and muscular woman proudly striding along with her breasts almost popping out of her top. There only appears to be some thin lime green material on either side, barely containing them, I can't see how. My mouth snaps open and I blink a few times rapidly. Am I hallucinating? No, there she is and there they are. It's not even summer any more, and it's getting pretty cool now, especially at this time of day. I don't feel the cold, but if I did I would have my jacket on. But here is a woman with her defiant and magnificent breasts thrust boldly out and into the cool Autumn air.
Still marvelling, I make my eyes move back down to the book.
Several buses charge up and one of them is mine. I join the crowd and climb up the stairs, my face in the ass of some sweet-smelling young uni student. It doesn't bother me. It is not uncomfortable. I don't move back. She doesn't seem to mind, either.
It occurs to me that I am surrounded by desirable women.
I hand over my $1.60, always exact change. The bus starts at this stop so there are always plenty of seats. Some people look at me as I walk up the aisle, some people look out the window. I find an empty seat, slide over to the window and open my book. After I read one sentence four times, I look around at the other people on the bus. There is a man with his hair sticking up, he is looking at the ceiling with his mouth open. In front of him is a woman with white wires coming out of her ears. Another man is wearing a suit, he is reading the sports section of the newspaper. What is so interesting about the sports section? Sometimes, just for the hell of it, and sometimes to see if there are any pictures of synchronised swimming, I will flip through the sports section and all I ever see is pictures of people with distorted and grotesque facial expressions.
The bus stops at some traffic lights and I look out the window at the cars alongside the bus. There is somebody in each car operating that vehicle. They have to negotiate traffic and deal with traffic lights. They get impatient because they get another red light, or get mad because somebody cuts in front of them. I'm glad to be on the bus. I got my book and I can read it, don't have to watch for red lights or idiots swerving in front of me. The bus driver handles that, and he is a professional, it's his job. Anyway, the bus is enormous. It wouldn't matter too much if some idiot swerved in front of us. And I can look up from my book anytime I want and look at the other people on the bus. The people with the white wires coming out of their ears. The junkie couple up the front facing us all with half-closed eyes and eyeballs rolling around lazily, loudly discussing "twenty cent".
The women reading books they refuse to show me the cover of.

3 comments:

Matter-Eater Lad said...

i'm kind of disappointed. i was lookin for something along the lines of... "she dropped something in her hand, and bent over to pick it up. when she stood upright, her magnificent boobies were no longer hidden by her shirt shirt. she wasn't aware that she was flashing two spectacular fullies. she walked away wondering why everyone was looking at her and smiling." that would have made me happy.

BixBloc said...

Hey Stratu...I came across this website that changes websites into "Gangsta' Rap" ...so I imputed your site, and below is what came out...I thought it was hilarious...check it out below...

www.Gizoogle.com


Trippin' tha Bus
Afta work today I wizzalk out of tha build'n n out tha gate, up Omnibus Lane, rizzay onto Ultimo Road, left along Harris Street ta Broadway n across ta Railway Square. That's where I cizzay tha bus hizzy . Snoop heffner mixed with a little bit of doggy flint.
I lean against tha rail'n n piznull mah book out. I read a paragraph then look up ta see if tha bus is com'n, then look around at tha otha people. My eyes almost pop out of they sockets ta see a tall n brown n muscular woman proudly strid'n along wit her breasts almost popp'n out of her top. There only appears ta be some tizzle lime green material on eitha side, barely contain'n them, I can't see how. My grill snaps open n I bliznink a few times rapidly. Am I hallucinat'n? No, there she is n there they are. It's not even summa any more, n it's gang bangin' pretty coo` niznow, especially at this time of day . Snoop dogg is in this bitch. I don't feel tha cold, but if I did I would have mah jacket on. But here is a woman wit her defiant n magnifizzles breasts thrust boldly out n into tha coo` Autumn air.
Still marvell'n, I makes mah eyes move back D-to-tha-izzown ta tha book.
Several buses charge up n one of thizzem is mine . Snoop dogg is in this bitch. I join tha crowd n clizzay up tha stairs, mah face in tha ass of some frontin' young uni student. It doesn't botha me doggystyle. It is not uncomfortable now motherfuckers lemme here ya say hoe. I don't mizzy bizzack. She doesn't seem ta mizzay brotha.
It occurs ta me tizzy I am surrounded by desirable bitchez.
I hand over mah $1.60, always exact change droppin hits. The bus starts at this stop so there is always plenty of seats. Some thugz look at me as I wiznalk up tha aisle, some thugz look out tha window. I find an empty seat, slide over ta tha window n open mah book cuz its a G thang. Afta I read one sentence four times, I look around at tha otha thugz on tha bus n shit. There is a dawg wit his hair saggin' up, he is doggy stylin' at tha ceil'n wit his grill open , niggaz, better recognize. In front of him is a woman wit white wires com'n out of her ears ta help you tap dat ass. Anotha dawg is wear'n a suit, he is blunt-rollin' tha sports section of tha newspapa fo gettin yo pimp on. Wizzy is so interest'n `bout tha sports section? Sometizzles jizzy fo` tha hiznell of it, n sometizzles ta see if there is any pictures of synchronised swimm'n, I wizzy flizzip through tha sports section n all I ever see is pictures of thugz wit distorted n grotesque facial expressions.
The bus stops at some traffic lights n I look out tha window at tha ridez alongside tha bus. There is somebody in each ride operat'n that vehicle fo' sheezy. They hizzle ta negotiate traffic n deal wit traffic lights , niggaz, better recognize. They git impatient coz they git anotha red light, or git buggin` coz somebody cuts in F-R-to-tha-izzont of thizzay with the S-N-double-O-P. I'm glad ta be on tha bus. I gots mah book n I can read it, don't have ta watch fo` red lights or idiots gang bangin' in frizzay of me. The bus rappa handles thizzay n he is a professizzles it's his job. Anyway, tha bus is enormous. It wouldn't rappa too mizzay if some idiot swerved in front of us n' shit. And I can look up frizzom mah book anytime I wizzay n look at tha hustla thugz on tha bus . Boo-Yaa!. The thugz wit tha white wires com'n out of they ears . Throw yo guns in the motherfuckin air. The junkie couple up tha front fac'n us all wit half-closed eyes n eyeballs rhymin' around lazily, loudly bustin' "twenty cizzay , ya feel me?.
The bitchez steppin' books they refuse ta show me tha cova of.

Stratu said...

That is hilarious alright. Thanks Bixbloc. I have not laughed so hard in a long time!