SOMETHING SMELLY

It was smokey when I got on the bus, so I wasn't too worried about the young fellow reacting badly opposite. Dude, it ain't me. Yeah smells like fire and brimstone, and I'm a devilish old cuss, but I swear I had nothing to do with it. Neither did the old lady next to you. We're innocent.

One of my problems is that I just cannot look simple-mindedly innocent. That's one reason why I'm okay wearing a surgical mask on public transit. It covers up some of my less than innocent looking facial bits. Another reason is that the bus is a rolling petri dish with horribly diseased and disfigured mutants on it, and I don't know where they've been. Schools, old folks homes, or secret haemorrhagic disease labs next to open sewers.

Or Berkeley. So there's no telling what.

The municipal goat repository.


In any case it wasn't me that stank of smoke, but a church going up in flames about a mile away. Which I found out way later. After lunch in C'town I smoked a pie and wandered down to the Financial District, where upon finishing the bowl I got on a bus heading back over the hill. Which was jampacked, and reeked like someone had lost control of their bowels AFTER leaving their law OFFICE at EXACTLY the time they boarded.

Okay, can't blame the church for that. I'd like to. But. Dang.

You know, there will ALWAYS be another bus.
Show some consideration for others.
Maybe don't rush next time?

One should wander toward the bus stop in a calm and thoughtful manner, not dash like a madman. Especially if one has eaten dangerous things recently, or there are warnings on the page and a half of small print that come with one's medications stating that these pills may cause diarhoea, constipation, digestive issues, palpitations, or psychotic episodes and hallucinations. Don't operate machinery, stay off ladders, avoid stress.

In the early evening the busses on that route come every five minutes, more or less. So staying at the office a little bit longer would have not been a great sacrifice. Unless they had a date. In which case they're now going to be late anyhow, and will have to think of an excuse that justifies another forty five minutes or so, that prevents angy words.
Without letting the cat out of the bag so to speak.

Speaking the truth isn't alway the best policy.

It was still smokey when I got home.

Though far less so.



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