Today was awesome. I woke up, got ready for work, ate a package of spinach (I love me some spinach, especially with tons of white vinegar, and yes this is important), took my vitamins, caught the bus 45 minutes early (I like to get there early to put on makeup and get some food). Just as I saw the bus coming, I remembered that I had no socks to wear with my work shoes.
Oh well. I'll buy some on State Street. James is sick of me stealing his anyway.
I got on the bus, sat down, commenced with the Sudoku, and was promptly hit with a sudden compulsion to exit the bus. I opened a window and looked toward the front of the bus. This usually helps with any motion sickness. No, I could just feel the flush spreading across my face even faster. At the next stop, I scurried off and just made it to some bushes when blaaaaaaa! until no more spinach. Spinach with tons of white vinegar.
Dear vitamins: thank you.
In truth, I probably would have been fine if I hadn't gotten on the bus; the motion and the slight stuffiness just triggered what the vitamins had already set up to go off.
Oh well. I'll just wait for the next bus. I'm only 30 minutes ahead of schedule, but this just means no makeup.
I got on the next bus, grabbed a schedule, and discovered that not only would I miss the early number 6 I'd been going for, but I'd also just miss the one after that. The one after that would get me to work 5 minutes late. Wonderful. So I stopped at my Mediterranean Cafe and gorged myself on hummus and pita and Greek salad. It was amazing--almost worth throwing up spinach in the bushes. And then I bought some socks.
The first person to sit next to me on the bus was a very smelly old lady. There are two old lady smells that I've come across. One I call Ponds Face Cream and Baby Powder with Fifty-Year-Old Clothing. It's peculiar, but not offensive. The other I call 32 Canker-Ridden Cats in a Latrine. She was, unfortunately, the latter.
I tried to cultivate a more charitable attitude by thinking of her when she must have been young and very pretty, but that just made me feel sad and urpy, not just urpy.
She eventually moved to a more open seat, but the girl who replaced her smelled so strongly of pot, I nearly gagged from that. It's not normally an offensive smell. But it's kind of a sickly-sweet, and in huge quantities, it is offensive. She smelled like she'd not only smoked a joint before getting on the bus, but she'd also taken whatever remained of her supply, made shampoo, conditioner, lotion, and body spray out of it. And used it. A lot of it. I'd rather have 32 Canker-Ridden Cats in a Latrine.
Then I got to work and found out that I'd brought the two size small shirts that Renee wanted and forgotten to bring a medium for myself. So I walked around all night in a small shirt. It was like Hooters, except with a big belly-button dimple instead of, well, let's just say it was like a cyclops Hooters.
And finally. My last story of the evening, which just about killed me it was so rude and funny. (Runny? Food?)
I was filling up the sugar at a booth when I noticed the little girl next to me kind of eyeing me up. She was eleven or twelve.
I moved on to the next table and saw her whispering back and forth with her mom across the table. They were clearly discussing something that involved me. Then she approached and said, "Excuse me." I asked if there was anything I could help her with. She said, "Are you gonna have a baby?" I said yes and told her I was due in October. She skipped off and called out a congratulations.
A little weird, yes. I'm pretty sure that's what she and her mother were talking about before she came over, and I'm wondering why her mother didn't tell her that is something you never, ever ask a stranger. Even if you ask someone you know, you had better be dang sure that is baby weight she's carrying out front. Obviously, it didn't bother me, since I am pregnant and not just gaining weight, but wow. Just wow.
About five minutes later I was back in the bus station. It's hard for me to convey tone of voice her, so you'll just have to take my word for how I describe this:
Girl: My aunt's gonna have a baby in June.
Me: Oh, really? She's pretty far along then.
Girl: Yeah, but she's been married five years.
[implied: and you're not married. Whore.]
Me: Huh! So have I.
Girl: [said with some incredulity] Oh? Where's your ring, then?
Me: [holding up left hand with quarter-inch-wide bright gold wedding band] Uh... right here.
Girl: [with definite note of disappointment in her voice] Oh.
I smiled and walked away. It was so bizarre I couldn't even be offended, really. Here are the assumptions:
1) I'm a waitress, so I must be unmarried (and probably uneducated; this not implied here, but many other people assume this).
2) I'm pregnant, and since I must be unmarried, I must be some kind trollop.
The girl, only eleven or twelve, mind you, was disappointed that she couldn't lord her moral superiority over me. I know it might seem as if I'm reading too much into this, but please trust me. I've had this job a long time, and one thing I've learned how to do really well is figure people out based on tone of voice and body language. The thing that gets me the most is that before and between these two conversations, she'd been conferring with her mother (her mom was out of earshot and couldn't have heard anything the girl actually said to me). I'd give a million dollars to find out what they'd been talking about.
(EvilNaomi wanted desperately to say something like, "Oh, my momma wants me to get married, but I can't even drive yet, and it really doesn't matter since I'm not sure which daddy to marry.")