Friday, August 22, 2008

The Mental Narrative Of A Bus Rider

In order to keep my mind and writing skills sharp, I perform writing exercises. One of the most useful exercises is the writing of mental narratives in which I put myself into the mental shoes of someone from society and simply write what they’re thinking. I must confess though, this first piece isn’t from too far outside my own experiences. In fact, it was inspired by my close familiarity with the city’s mass transit system.
"Lord, my head hurts today. Please mister don't pull the rope, we just stopped thirty feet ago. Don't make the bus stop again simply to save yourself ten yards of walking. I'm tired, my head is pounding, pounding, pounding , and I need to make my connection. I simply want to go home, medicate myself, and eat something hot. I suppose I'm being self centered, but I just can't care. Its not as if you're old or infirm. You're fully capable of walking the thirty feet. Please, don't pull that…… You pulled it. Gee, thanks.

Oh good, a baby's crying . That's going to cost me two more pain tablets once I get home, whenever that is. Why can't buses be adults only vehicles? I swear I'd vote for the candidate who promised that law. Of course, we'd still be left with those bastions of etiquette who make the bus stop every thirty feet. Please mother, please, please, please, silence your child. Give him a bottle. Give him a rubber nipple. Give him your nipple. I don't care, simply silence the child.

For the sweet love of I don't know what, look what's climbing aboard now. Another mother and six of her slimy brood. Well, they're not all slimy, just that one. What is he, three. At least wipe his nose before you sit him down. No lady, no, don't sit by me, don't sit by….. Hi, how ya doing? Nice weather isn't it? Out buying Pokemon cards today, were you? I would probably be more impressed if I had some inkling of what that was.

Jesus, she's rubbing up against me, and her skin is clammy. She's sweating. Why's she sweating? Who sweats in sixty degree weather? She looks like she used to be pretty, which would account for the six offspring. Yet, after pumping out six kids like so many biscuits, with obviously no more than eighteen months between each delivery, her hips have become misshapen and her belly permanently distended. She's apparently given up on the whole makeup thing too. I just wish she'd quit rubbing against me. And, what is that smell? Lord, my head hurts today."

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