Interlude, and/or intrusion of a monologue from my unremarkable life. Yesterday. Midnight GMT.
My friend and pot dealer called me this morning because he knows my driving license has been suspended and he realized he has many bus passes he can sell me at half-price because that's what another client of his uses to buy pot (a client who works at Apple and gets these bus passes for free) and so my friend meets me downtown after I get off work and sells me these bus passes. He gives me several hits on his wax pen and asks me what bus I'm taking home. (The 5 and a transfer to the something.) He tells me the 5 is a terrible bus through a bad neighborhood and that drivers have been attacked, fights, stabbings, etc. I know none of this. I wonder if I live in a bad neighborhood, and I remember the building next door to the one I live in was condemned after an arsonist lit it on fire--the fire that gave me reason to move into my current building--and though I suspect the landlord, I wonder if maybe I don't live in a bad neighborhood. My friend notices I wear no gloves, and that's true, though I have been carrying a pair of socks. Tomorrow I will carry two pairs and hope that I'll find my scarf forgotten in the office. Now I've already ridden one bus to the end of its line while writing this, though at first I thought myself lucky to catch an early departure to get out of the cold. Evidently the route for 5F differs from 5M. Now I'm riding another watching a child in a parka howl like a wolf three rows ahead of me. My phone loses GPS signal again (though I'm high and don't blame the phone) and I wonder where the hell I am, and I find my bus is following the damn 5M I was originally supposed to catch, and they're both arriving at the same destination. A woman smokes a blunt just outside the door as I walk into the station. Several minutes later, I wonder what's happening: the bus I needed was posted as due, but I was watching all the gates and never saw it arrive. I am stuck at the bus station for some additional time. My fingers are numb. I'm typing this instead of wearing the socks.