For the second week in a row I called-in sick for the Tuesday night pub-crawl. I susppose if I really pushed the envelope I would be up to it, but coming back from Chinatown after my tea time today was a bus-ride from hell. Two coughing fits, and basically grumbling and swearing as inaudibly as possible under my breath like an ornery old cuss. The ONLY bright spot was the young lady of an age somewhere between college and early forties (Chinese American, so hard to tell) with a well shaped face and just perfect lips. From Montgomery Street all the way up to Jones Street.
Yes, okay, If I'm staring straight ahead and have a perfect close up view of that, that isn't bad at all. Quite nice. Good complexion too. Thank you.
Everything else about that bus ride was a slice of hell.
The woman seated next to me was American tourist sized. I removed my pipes from my right-hand side coat pocket so that the stems would not be snapped. Invisible across the aisle an infant wept and whined, and I realized that anyone who takes their babies on the bus at rush hour probably hates not only other people but them as well. Disease sponges.
A rolling Petri dish chock-filled with very live very toxic cultures.
Some of which are having coughing fits right now.
If I had gone out tonight I can imagine how it would have gone. Mostly fine, except for the last three blocks to the bus stop, and the first block after. Grumble grumble, dammit, cus cus cus, oh F dot dot dot. It's cold. I want to blow this country up. Screw the military industrial complex. A pox on all the red states. Cough, hack eructate.
And I would have not gotten enough sleep.
So best not risk it.
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