So this weekend, I am waiting for a bus on the corner of Fillmore and Lombard. I am listening to Bach on my ipod, and looking straight ahead, waiting for the number 22 bus to arrive so I can ride it out to the Hayes valley.
It would be fair to note at this point that I am wearing an olive green miniskirt, some large black calflength boots, a black peacoat, and a creme scarf.
So this hobo shuffles up to the left of me, and I continue staring forward, and calmly bring my left fist up to my right, and start systematically popping my knuckles. I do the same then to my right hand, and the hobo quietly, and without comment, fucks off.
A man who was seated on a bench behind me starts to laugh, but I continue looking forward, content with my inherent badassery.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
Ashley, you are one hardcore lass.
Perhaps he had arthritis, each crack a painful reminder of his crippling condition.
That's quite the cool story. Congratulations.
if i was the hobo, i'd'a gived you a hug, 'n' maybe a smooch f'the road.
We need to make this into a comic.
Post a Comment