It’s Thursday, so that means it’s Wacky Transit Day! We had a strong opening, what with the coiffed bleached-blond loony who kicked things off. He stumbled onto the Western bus and almost fell backwards onto the lap of an elderly Hispanic woman. Did I mention he was wearing a skintight tee shirt in the style of the ‘Chicago’ script? (The band, not the city.) Well, he was. And instead of ‘Chicago,’ it scrolled ‘Chocolate.’ If only that had been his toughest stance!
He proceeded to lecture the bus, focusing the majority of his disgust on the young nurse seated behind him. His first line? “Don’t you hate it when the guy going to work next to you is DRUNK?” (Yes.) He went on to tell her that the problem with America is white people (which he was- she was not) and straight people. Oh boy! That’s a good half of the demographic on the #49! You’ve got our attention now, sir.
Unconcerned by the girl’s lack of attention, he turned his focus to the businessman sitting in front of him. “You know what?” The guy took his headphones off. “Did you say something to me?” He asked the former. “Yeah. I’m reading your mind. Do you know I can read your thoughts? And guess what? I’m bisexual. DEAL WITH IT.” The guy put his headphones back on. “Ah,” He nodded as he exited the bus. Lucky.
He then turned his attention to me. I had my headphones on with the sound turned off. (Miss any of this? Are you kidding?) I had planned to not make ANY eye contact- but my darned eyes twitched upwards (out of fear of confrontation, fear of missing any dialogue, I’m not sure) and I saw part of his eye looking at my eye. MAN.
Here’s what I discovered- I am a terrible (white) human. I will have babies. And that is all. And they will be terrible. For I am straight. Also, I am ugly, I am an ignorer, I think I’m amazing (at least I have something going for me) and he will most likely take me out. (I’m not sure if he meant to dinner or fisticuffs- it’ll be neither if he keeps up that kind of talk.) He then slumped back in his seat- FOR HE WAS DRUNK- so the threat level was never truly that high. And it was my stop, so…good morning! The day is so, so young.
I’d like to report our first Wii injury. It’s mine, of course, and fairly lame. (So’s my hand, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Which, strangely, is how it happened.) We had just gotten the hang of tennis and were feeling pretty competitive and good about ourselves. Then, following through on a backhand (for the first time EVER I might add- ask Coach Wyman!) I smacked the back of my hand on the television cabinet door, which was propped open at a 45 degree angle. (That’s as far as it’ll go, I wasn’t just being lazy.) However, I thwacked it on the door with the force of my entire body. And, while not usually impressive, a strong backhand of bone meeting oak can cause one to crumple to the floor while one’s husband asks “Why’d you do that?” And then go for some ice.
I currently have a yellow rectangular bruise on my right hand (if you turn my hand to the side it looks like a knuckle! Ew!) but there is some good news. I finished the match lefty…and I still beat P.J.
Lest you think this week has been nothing but pain and chastising, we had a great time down at Pritzker Pavilion last night. Andrew Bird in concert! Free! I had never seen him live, but he and my Bose headphones are pals. Turns out, he is so, so cool. The nuances of his performance, the banter, the ‘aw shucks’ demeanor….the SOCK MONKEY he has onstage every night…(I also have a sock monkey. Mine is named Opie but has yet to be onstage.) Such a good concert. And with a picnic din from Treasure Island as well! (That sounds magical, doesn’t it? It’s a grocery store.)
Tonight may or may not bring another such experience. We were supposed to go to the live NPR taping of “Wait, wait…don’t tell me,” but as it’s currently pouring rain (forecast says: chance of rain, 100%) we may just invite people over to play some sweet Wii action. Any takers?
I still have one good hand.
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