dear guys on the bus,
hi. how are you?
yeah, i don't really care, actually. because i'm tired and also, i'm pretty sure i'm getting sick.
so you know what? this bus ride is long enough without having to listen to your shitty music.
that's right, homie.
i can hear those sick beats all the way up here, five rows in front of you, even though you're wearing those ridiculously huge headphones.
know what else? you look stupid when you dance on the bus. and we can all hear your foot tapping, it's actually really loud.
oh, and you?
yes,the guy in front of me in the white sweater.
hello! how did you get your sweater to be so white?
why do you have three of those necklace things that look like shoelaces but hold keys around your neck?
are you a grown-up version of a latch-key kid?
i saw you get on the bus and i knew something weird was up with you, so when you got up and started pacing the aisle i wasn't surprised.
what did surprise me is when you started doing lunges and stretching in front of us all.
maybe the stairs on the double decker bus confused you, but this isn't your private residence, and, for future reference, it is weird to do stretches that require sitting down on the floor in such a crowded public area.
and last but not least, guy wearing all beige, i think you're okay.
i'm pretty sure that's just your uniform for some shitty job somewhere awful and i'm sorry i snapped at you when you turned around in your seat and did that "i want to talk to you, please stop listening to your music for a second" movement.
if i had known that you just needed to know whether or not you got all the bird crap off the back of your neck from when that bird shit on you i would have been happy to answer.
i didn't see any.
you're lucky. one time i got pooped on when i was wearing a pretty dress and i didn't notice for like 2 hours. it smelled, and was on my bare shoulder but i just assumed it was the people around me who stunk.
that is all. please, continue your day as usual.
except for the stretching.