(no subject)

[phosfate]

Once again, the bus. One stops right in front of my building, which is handy for going home. Our new place is in a rather stabby, drinky, untreated schizophrenicky bit of town, but being the Midwest, this is relative -- you're safer than you would be in front of Rockefeller Center, and your greatest risk is from cyclists using the sidewalk.

Even so, it's a bit unsettling when one of the local homeless guys comes up to me, and says:

"You need any money?"
"I...I'm sorry, what?"
"I have some money. Do you need anything to tide you over?"
"No, I'm good, thank you."
"You sure? You don't need a couple of bucks?"
"Yes. You keep it. Thank you, though."
"Okay." And he wanders off.

Maybe it's because I wasn't wearing a coat.

Anyway, this was infinitely preferable to what happened at the other end of the line, when I got off the bus, and a young gentleman riding shotgun in what was apparently his big brother's car was compelled to inform me:

"MASSIVE BONER!"

as he drove past.

I can only assume I'm totally rocking that hottie hobo look.

I went home and ordered pizza, because I don't want to go out there anymore.

Matt? Honey? FIX MY GODDAMN CAR!

Comments

[ashenmote.livejournal.com]

Oh, we have the local street musicians and the wandering street musicians and the music students and the kids with flutes before Christmas. We have lots.