This drunk lady gets on the #8 bus yesterday, MARINATED in beer, sits down near me and proceeds to stare at this woman sitting across from her. After about five minutes, this is what I hear:
Souse: You have beautiful nails.
Souse: YOU HAVE BEAUTIFUL NAILS!
Gal: (looks at her hands) Uh, Thanks?
Souse: I used to have nice nails. I’m a stripper. I don’t take my clothes off or anything, I STRIP WOOD! (starts to laugh maniacally)
Gal shoots back blank stare.
Souse: So what does that tattoo say? (leans in close) Tim or Jim?
Hilarious. And thankfully it was time for me to get off the bus. The Tim/Jim back and forth probably went on for miles.
Trash in the streets is not an unusual sight in my neighborhood. But I saw something a little out of the ordinary at the corner of Cullerton and Peoria that got me thinking about what archeologists would say about us in say, 500 years. There were like five dirty baby diapers and a bag of Cheetos, half-full. Open air daycare center where they serve the kids junk food? Or maybe a roving band of stray babies who stand on top of eachother to break into corner groceries for Cheetos and Similac. Like I said, weird.
This morning I was walking to the bus when this older gentlemen coming toward me stepped to the left, lifted his hat up a bit and lowered his head.
And I didn’t acknowledge it! No smile. Nothing. It was a few moments before I realized this guy was demonstrating an extreme gesture of politeness and grace and here I was barreling by with my “Get out of my #$@& way face!.” Nice job, Angie. Real nice.