On major problem with Marin County and its denizens is that they do not understand how bus schedules work. Which means that the closer it comes to the bus leaving, the more brusque I shall be with people who are blithely unaware of operating hours.
After the doors close it's my time. And there is nothing, NOTHING in any way appealing about missing the bus and being stuck in the purulent cyst on the filthy backside of a loathsome dieased mutant which is Marin County for an extra hour.
You may expect my attitude at such a moment to be venomous and toxic.
It is not unreasonable to expect a sudden bout of rabies.
What you faced in the country club locker room, or while you were servicing some Karen, is as nothing compared to what may happen to you if you don't leave at the proper time. And make no mistake; the colonel won't back you now, you disgusting bourgeois spoiled brat.
By the way, there might be a rattlesnake in the passenger seat.
Snakes find expensive cars very comfortable.
Once my work is over for the day, I do not wish to spend on moment more in Marin.
I despise the place.
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