Bus trip started off well. Someone sat in my reserved seat.
“The people at the back took our seats,” they said when I showed them my ticket. Well, that’s all bloody fine and dandy but what about my seat?
“There’s a seat behind us,” an American said from across the aisle.
“But the bus is full, so what happens when the person who has that seat reserved gets on?” I said. Why can’t people just stick to their designated places? It makes life so much easier.
“Well, I guess, ” the American said, “Your pretty little self will just have to deal with it then, won’t you?” Oh, that wasn’t patronizing, was it? I felt like punching the little shit but instead awkwardly squeezed into the available spot.
“I guess your pretty little self will just have to deal with it then…”
As the bus pulled away from the city over the bridge, a full moon rested low in the sky. The obnoxious little twat sitting in front of me joined the moon and pushed back his seat, right into my lap. I was a prisoner in a confined space and had little to look forward to for the next twelve hours except to plan my fantasy attack on the little fucker.
Perhaps a cheese wire cutter over the headrest and pulled tight around his scrawny ass neck would do the trick….. Dream on, Vic. You’ve not got any wire and the cheese and crackers in your bag just won’t cut it.
The guy was lucky. This time. Next time I’ll show him exactly what’s what…
