Death to the Metro

Fuck the fucking bus.

seriously.

Had I not just speed-walked some of my anger off while on my why to the goldline, I probably would still be too mad to write.
but I’ve calmed down.
trying to breathe, let go.

FUCK IT.

At around 2:00 pm I walk up to a parked bus in front of the metro terminal in CP. The bus is #751, the one I need, but since it is just idle I ask a sloppy fat fuck in a florescent metro vest if this is the right bus to the Goldline. He says yes, but you’ll need to go stand by the sign.

So I walk 30 feet up to the first sign. It says #751 on it, but so does another sign another 50 feet beyond this one. I stand there, debating on which sign to stand under, and figure I’m ok just where I am and to just stop overthinking things.

I stand there, doubting my decision, yet holding strong. The pickup at this stop is supposed to be 2:06, and it’s now 2:10, but bus is still just sitting there. No big deal, I wait a little more and finally hear the engine start up and see the bus moving towards me.

IT FUCKING DRIVES RIGHT PAST ME and stops at the next sign. I wave and curse as I hurry towards it.

IT FUCKING TAKES OFF.

So this is my personal “Fuck You” complaint to the douchebag driver, who managed to answer my question, direct me to a sign, and then proceed to roll right by me. You are a total dick and I hope you have a bad case of jock itch from all that sitting around in your shitty polyester blend dockers or whatever the hell your uniform is made of.

I’m on the Goldline now, really hoping that I still make it to my appointment on time, and I’m trying to regain some sense of composure that the cocksucker stole from me today.

p.s.
I did get to my dentist appointment on time. But it had been canceled and they weret able to notify me in time thanks to my broken cell phone.
Turns out I’ll just have to come back another day….

FUCK.

Copyright © 2014 Brooke Kent
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