|(Thank you, CeeLo Green, for your inimitable contribution to the venerable institution we call pop music. Without your help, this post would not have been possible.)|
Monday, April 23, 2012
I was waiting for the 209 the other day, when a car drove by, as many cars have, and as many cars will. This car, however, was different.
It contained a young hooligan in the passenger seat, who, as the car went by, looked me right in the eyes and shouted
I can't imagine why our little friend could have wanted to do this, other than for the satisfaction of making me jump (which I did, since people don't usually yell obscenities at me while I'm waiting for buses). He doesn't know me, that I know of, and I know most of the people I've offended, I think.
I found the whole incident somewhat absurd; I only mention it at all here because, afterwards, I thought to myself,
Hmm, that hasn't happened to me since I was a missionary.