CHRISTMAS VACATION: CONFESSIONS OF A CONFUSED DOUCHE
SECTION V: THE LONG BUS RIDE HOME WITH TOO MUCH TO THINK ABOUT
Chapter XLI: Louisville, KY—Realization of an Improper Image
By the time we arrived to Louisville, the sun was coming up and I was completely exhausted from having to spend the entire night getting repeatedly violated by the person who had been voted Creepiest Man in America for 12 years straight. We had the same bus driver and the same bus to travel to Indianapolis, and I made certain that I would not be sitting next to this asshole again. Plus, this time, I wanted to sit by the window because my monkey ass was going to sleep regardless.
Layovers can only be defined as a complete waste of life. I contemplated simply lying on the floor at the bus station and falling asleep but feared that I might wake up with the previous passenger straddled over the top of me. Should that nightmarish vision become a reality, I would certainly suffer severe psychological trauma that could take up to 5-10 business days to fully recover. Even worse than that, I might accidentally sleep through the announcement and miss my bus entirely.
My newly found confidence regarding my demonic badass image quickly subsided near the vending machines though. Somebody approached me from behind and said, “Hell, I’d like to have some milk” (pronounced mee-ilk.) The celebration party that was raging wildly in full blossom after not being asked to attend church came to an abrupt halt. Apparently my image stills needs major alterations if I somehow look like a person who would be even remotely interested in the fact that this mother fucker would like to drink a glass of God damn mother fucking milk. How the fuck does a person even respond to that statement? I didn’t tell him what I wanted, nor have I ever told anybody—especially a random stranger.
As a result of too many extreme discrepancies and puzzling questions, I honestly have no idea how I am perceived by the world. In one day, and this is a 100% true story: I was walking down the street and some girl stopped me by pointing at me and saying, “Who’s this guy?” She asked me if I was selling speed, and when I told her “no” she claimed that I looked like that type. Not long after that, while leaving the Social Security Office, a person who had been waiting in the office with me offered me a ride down the humongous hill. I accepted, and he immediately asked if I was foreign. After I told him “no” he questioned again and claimed that he was certain that I was European; "You look very European." Not long after that, I stopped in a café to kill some before work and the woman working there told me as I was leaving, “Have a great day, ma’am.” At work that day, somebody claimed that I did not look like the type who would be working at that place. She insinuated that I looked like somebody who should be working at either a bank or a coffee shop—two opposite extremes I thought. I figured I could tell people anything and they would believe it at this point; people rarely believe anything I say when I am honest.
I sat there in one of the cozy steel wire bus terminal seats in the waiting area growing increasingly irate. One, should disaster strike and devastatingly ruin all of the chairs in the waiting area, Greyhound Bus services would be out approximately $8.46 in damages. For some strange stupid reason, I actually became borderline furious because that guy came up to me and told me he wanted milk. And I accidentally shouted out loud, “Who the fuck cares?”
After thinking about this insignificant incident for far too long (every bit of four minutes), the resentment turned towards myself. Then, I felt sorry for the guy for thinking bad thoughts about him. I am positive that he was a nice guy and I was simply being as asshole—which is a recurring theme. He was just being friendly. I contemplated leaving all my luggage at the bus terminal, running all the way to the nearest store, and purchasing this kind person an entire gallon of milk. Unfortunately, I was too tired and this act of redemption would only take place on a parallel universe. I would love to know how that played out.
When we boarded the bus to Indianapolis, the driver did not take our tickets then. Leaving Louisville, we had to present her with both sets of transfers. The obnoxious piece of shit that had brought her damn kids rudely questioned the bus driver why she didn’t take the previous ticket on the last stop. Almost immediately, an employee from the depot intervened and tried to make peace before anything even escalated. However, she kept complaining, was holding up the line, and said, rather loudly, “I don’t understand why you just didn’t take the ticket the last time.”
Finally, and almost instinctively without even thinking, I said out loud, and rather loudly, “God, who the fuck cares?” She turned around to see who had said it, and I continued speaking out loud, seemingly to myself, for I was still in mid-sentence, “you don’t need to know this shit.” Everybody turned around and looked at me, smiled, and the girl holding up the line grew quiet. As she was handing the driver the ticket, I felt as if I had said this to nobody in particular, but felt like I needed to say something directly towards her. Even though she had her back towards me now, I concluded with, “What the fuck do you have to gain by knowing the explanation as to why the ticket wasn’t taken last time? Is this shit going to be a Daily Double question on Jeopardy tonight?”
It all happened so fast, and even though there were snickers throughout the line, I felt I was little harsh. But, I think somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew I was right and I had just put her in her place—she made no attempt to argue back with me. It was as if she shrugged, and was like, ‘all right, you’re right—my bad.’ We were all probably tired from the long trip, doing shit we normally wouldn’t do, and therefore, she was immediately forgiven—although she should have left her damn kids at home.
Then, I did a complete 180, and I was flatteringly friendly and pleasant towards the woman taking the tickets. I wondered if this made her suspect that I was a Leo.
Although I felt bad for saying the harsh comments, I wasn’t willing to utilize a parallel universe for any redemption to her. Somewhere, in Universal Plane #336-86AC-9, she could enjoy a nice glass of milk with her future best friend.
Index: Chapter List
Chapter 41 Soundtrack Listing:
1. Nasty Savage
"Welcome Wagon" 5:02
"The Deist" 3:48
3. The Dictators
"Two Tub Man" 4:09
The Dictators Go Girl Crazy!
4. The Modern Lovers
"Pablo Picasso" 4:22
The Modern Lovers
5. Black Eyes
"Yes, I Confess" 4:09
"Violent Pacification" 2:58
Dirty Rotten LP
"Four Cornered Room" 8:28
The World Is A Ghetto
8. The Beatles
"Cry Baby Cry" 3:11
The White Album
9. Joy Division
"New Dawn Fades" 4:48
10. Deep Purple
"Maybe I'm a Leo" 4:52
"At War With Satan" 19:57
At War With Satan
All Sections Written, Designed, and Music Compiled by Tony J. Neal
Do Not Disturb Image shared from: maleslutsecrets