Tuesday, August 26, 2014

45TH SOUTH DOESN'T CARE ABOUT YOU (PART 3)

Today while I was at work commutergirl called me to ask me to pick up sundry groceries for our dinner this evening and I, being the gallant husband that I am, eagerly agreed.

All went well until I made my way back to the bus stop to go home. It wasn't raining when I left the grocery store, but by the time I had walked across the parking lot to the bus stop on 45th drops had begun to fall. Within a few minutes the 45 had shown up, but was stopped at the light at 9th East.

As I blandly contemplated the 45 waiting at the light, the rain began to intensify. And in the less-than-two-minutes that it took for the light to change the rain had gotten so thick as to completely both soak and exasperate me, to the point where I was silently begging the bus to run the light and just pick me up (silently, because it wouldn't have helped, as the bus driver couldn't hear me, and also anybody who could have heard me wouldn't have understood).

And I thought to myself, get your shots in while you can, 45th, because I'm moving next week.

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