The Wee Democracy

karma

i was downtown tonight, after i got off work, walking from the train station to the bus stop. i saw a guy, probably about my age running with a desperation in his gait that means only one thing - the bus is pulling away. sure enough, i toss my peepers a bit further down the way, and see a bus stopped at a red light about a block away.

cut back to my man runnin his fool legs off, and i see a silver thing go a-flyin' from his pocket, and bounce along on the street, comepletely unbeknownst to him. ooh! a quarter, i think, and it's mine! all mine! i cross the street and pick it up, sliding it into my pocket, thinking, i need this for tomorrow's bus ride.

but, a bit further down the way, i see my man on those last final hops of a terminated run, adopting that dejected posture that can only say, damn you, bus driver.

i've been there before -- pumping my legs in dress pants, shoes and a tie, holding my bag, cursing under my breath for the driver who's leaving early, most of the time, for making me run....then not making it, giving a loud cry of "fuck" and catching your breath until the next bus shows up.

i take the quarter from my pocket, and walk over to the guy. "you dropped your quarter...when you were running."

"oh, thanks, man."

"sure....i've been there before."




feeling: alright
thinking of: ice
song of the day: fake plastic trees - radiohead
but i can't help the feeling i could blow through the ceiling, if i'd just turn and run