Let me begin this post by informing you that I don’t have a car/van/Vert/truck/Gary or any other means of transportation that comes in useful when you just want to drive down town and drop off a paper or whatever you might be dropping off, aka, drugs. I ride the city bus. Yes, mass transit is a beautiful thing sometimes. Get on the bus and just chill. So that’s how I’m mobile, the 63 Sunray route. I get the same bus driver, he hits the same curb at the same bus stop, I nod to the same old black man on my right…like clockwork the 63 is.
Moving on.
One summer day I’m in down town St. Paul. See, I took a summer classes and that really sucked it up. Regardless, I was in down town St. Paul. I’m waiting for the bus to come by, just minding my own business, doing the reading for class that I’m supposed to talk about in ten minutes. I’m in my work clothes because I just got off and hadn’t changed at the school yet. Well, all the sudden I get that feeling in my nose, you know, when you feel it dripping and you have to stop it. Right, well all get it. Mine is a little different, though. See, my nose likes to bleed, a lot, and often. I don’t know why, but it’s nasty. Yeah, so I wipe my nose thinking it’s your average snot, but it’s not snot. Crap, a nosebleed at the bus stop. Ho, it doesn’t end there. It doesn’t just drip, it pours, gushes even, like a volcano that oozes out red lava and covers everything. My nose did that.
So I’m sitting and, crap, the gushing. I don’t have a tissue, a napkin from McDonalds, not even a freakin’ piece of paper to stop it with. Here’s the other thing about the bus stop, there are like, 20 people standing around me. They see me bleed, one girl at the bus stop freaks out and runs, RUNS away. She doesn’t know what’s going on. Maybe I have AIDS, or maybe I’ve just snorted a line or something. Who knows, it’s the city, things happen. So all I have to wipe my nose on is my hand, then the other hand, then the palms of my hand.
“Anybody (20 people) have a tissue? I could kind of use one right now.”
“Oh gosh, no, sorry.”
“Ew, mommy, look at the man turn red.”
“Wow, that sucks.”
Yeah, I know it sucks buddy, I’m the one with the bloody hands here. I’m the one who is the freak at the bus stop. There is NOTHING I can do….except one little thing. Remember those pants that The Boy used to have, that converted into shorts? Yeah, those are my work pants. So I unzip, and blow…Nice. Finally a guy runs to a store down the street and give me a paper towel. Thanks, could have used this three minutes ago. So now my nose has stopped bleeding, by I have dried blood on my face, all over my hands, and on my clothes. I looked like I just committed a murder or something. I’m a regular O.J. Except really it’s just nose bleed blood. Luckily I had clothes to change into. But the bus driver still thought I was a freak, and rightfully so.
Point of story, don’t get a nosebleed on the corner of 5th and Minnesota because those people don’t carry tissue.
Also, avoid the Clap.
Moving on.
One summer day I’m in down town St. Paul. See, I took a summer classes and that really sucked it up. Regardless, I was in down town St. Paul. I’m waiting for the bus to come by, just minding my own business, doing the reading for class that I’m supposed to talk about in ten minutes. I’m in my work clothes because I just got off and hadn’t changed at the school yet. Well, all the sudden I get that feeling in my nose, you know, when you feel it dripping and you have to stop it. Right, well all get it. Mine is a little different, though. See, my nose likes to bleed, a lot, and often. I don’t know why, but it’s nasty. Yeah, so I wipe my nose thinking it’s your average snot, but it’s not snot. Crap, a nosebleed at the bus stop. Ho, it doesn’t end there. It doesn’t just drip, it pours, gushes even, like a volcano that oozes out red lava and covers everything. My nose did that.
So I’m sitting and, crap, the gushing. I don’t have a tissue, a napkin from McDonalds, not even a freakin’ piece of paper to stop it with. Here’s the other thing about the bus stop, there are like, 20 people standing around me. They see me bleed, one girl at the bus stop freaks out and runs, RUNS away. She doesn’t know what’s going on. Maybe I have AIDS, or maybe I’ve just snorted a line or something. Who knows, it’s the city, things happen. So all I have to wipe my nose on is my hand, then the other hand, then the palms of my hand.
“Anybody (20 people) have a tissue? I could kind of use one right now.”
“Oh gosh, no, sorry.”
“Ew, mommy, look at the man turn red.”
“Wow, that sucks.”
Yeah, I know it sucks buddy, I’m the one with the bloody hands here. I’m the one who is the freak at the bus stop. There is NOTHING I can do….except one little thing. Remember those pants that The Boy used to have, that converted into shorts? Yeah, those are my work pants. So I unzip, and blow…Nice. Finally a guy runs to a store down the street and give me a paper towel. Thanks, could have used this three minutes ago. So now my nose has stopped bleeding, by I have dried blood on my face, all over my hands, and on my clothes. I looked like I just committed a murder or something. I’m a regular O.J. Except really it’s just nose bleed blood. Luckily I had clothes to change into. But the bus driver still thought I was a freak, and rightfully so.
Point of story, don’t get a nosebleed on the corner of 5th and Minnesota because those people don’t carry tissue.
Also, avoid the Clap.
posted by Mike at 9/11/2003 12:41:00 AM
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