i desperately need to do my math homework, since it's due on - gulp - monday. i also have about 200 medical terms i need to memorize for this wednesday's test. but the math comes first. or something.
freaking algebra, anyhow.
i keep meaning to tell you stories of people that i have been running into at the bus stop, so i suppose i'll start with Meth-head Martha.
I'm waiting for the bus down the hill from my college, in front of the McDonalds there, lost in the music of my mp3 player. I see this woman who looked like a very stereotypical meth head meandering around the corner. she looks as if she was very pretty once, but her skin is sagging, her face sunken, her teeth missing. i see her pouring something into a mcdonald's cup, and then scoosh the can into the bushes. i step to the side to see if it truly was what i thought it was. Yup! a 211 Steel Reserve. (for those of you not living in the Pacific Northwest, Steel Reserve is a cheap arse beer that has a higher alcohol content than normal beer and tastes roughly like rusty piss.) Martha attempted to stand there non-chalantly and almost succeeded. she would stand stock-still for a moment.... then suddenly weave over to the side, sloshing her beer all over the sidewalk. she kept sipping it while we waited for the bus, right before she would slosh it again. i saw her talking to herself, but thought nothing of it.
i turned away from Martha to look up the street in the opposite direction from where the bus normally comes. when i turned back around, i saw Martha had snuck up behind me and had her face almost hovering over my backpack. when i turned, she jumped back and looked as if she were concentrating on something somewhere else, as if she hadn't just been all up in my bid-ness. oookay.
i take a few steps away from Martha and continue to wait for the bus.
Meth-head Martha then walks to the other side of me and starts talking to a guy that always seems to be waiting for the bus at the same time as me, no matter what time of the day i am waiting to catch that bus. he has long, wavy brown hair down his back... and a long, wavy brown beard down his front to match. he always carries various umbrellas with him, but they're not pedestrian umbrellas, they're the type of umbrellas that screw to patio furniture.
i see the bus pulling up, so i turn off my mp3 player (i have this weird 'thing' that i have to be able to hear everything around me when i climb onto the bus, in case the driver asks me something or i run into someone i know, etc.), and realize that Martha has come back up to my side and was hissing viciously to me:
"you deserve to diiiiiie. YOU DESERVE TO DIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEE....."
then turns to climb onto the bus, but is detered by the bus driver making her wait for an elderly man to get off the bus. she starts dancing around and waving her hands at everyone to move back "oh, watch out now, here comes GRANDPA, trying to get off the bus! screw us for wanting to get on! God forbid we need to GO somewhere, come ON grandpa!" then hurries on board.
i climb onto the bus (or would it be 'into'?) behind her, show the driver my pass and mouth the words "she's REALLY drunk" accompanied by my right hand yoinking up and down and making the international sign for drinking. he mouthed the words just as largely back to me "i know."