Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the Vicodin, or maybe it was a combination of both but downtown was gorgeous one night after a long shift at work. The people were smiling, moving around as if someone had hit the mute button, the lights were dazzling and twinkled in time with my music. I think the music was the best part. It perfectly drowned out the obnoxious sounds of the bus. It was just me, the lights and the quiet voice of Damien Rice.
The bliss of downtown even distracted me from the throbbing pain in my broken finger. I had hurt it at work a few days ago when the security window for the To-Go area fell on my hand, breaking my little finger and causing me to get 5 stitches. I drifted in and out of day dreams of being a real superhero and getting a call from my agent (that I didn't have) saying that I needed to pack right away for my national book tour. Once and a while, I'd check the scrolling marquee to see if I was nearing my stop and sometime after imagining myself winking at a hot guy waiting in line for me to sign his book, I looked up and saw this scrolling by: "**\££?"
"What the fuck. Where the hell am I?" I thought to myself. I'd certainly missed my stop and was now hurling into the mysterious abyss where buses go after people are done riding them. I half expected to grow an extra eye that was completely useless, located in my arm pit. Because, you know, that's what happens when you find yourself hurling into mysterious abysses.
I frantically started moving about in my seat, trying to squint hard enough to read the street signs whizzing past me. Shit like this always happens to me . I'm enjoying a plesant time ignoring the world and I miss my stop and end up riding into an oblivion. I did my best to tell myself not to panic but it had already set in. My heart was racing, as was my mind trying to figure out where I was, wishing that I had taken the time to learn the layout of the city I've lived in since I was 6 years old. It was a good fifteen minutes of sweaty panic before I thought to pause my music and try to listen to the gravely voice that announced the stops. The first announcement sounded something line "Watermelon and Led Go." I took this to mean that we were in the farmer's market district of the city which also meant that I was well past my stop. I mean, where else would they have street names like "Watermelon?" The next one cane out sounding like "Watermelon and Congruence." Well, at least I knew I was on Watermelon. I squinted harder at the street signs and finally figured out that I was at Washington and Commerce. That made a lot more sense.
It also meant that it would be another 45 minutes before I reached my stop. With a sigh of relief, I drifted bak into my day dreams which just so happened to be about watermelons living on Tangerine Avenue and the irony of it all.
No comments:
Post a Comment