Overheard on the bus

I spend a lot of time on buses because, basically, that’s how I make a living. It’s a great job that pays pretty well and all the rest, but what I really look forward to day after day are the little surprises: e.g., a guy dressed in entirely in black wearing black lipstick, black nailpolish, black frames for glasses, long, straight black hair – not queer so much as weird, weird, weird … where was I? He’s wheeling his luggage (entirely black) around town with a mannequin he has dressed up to look exactly like him, riding on top of said luggage, John Wayne-style. And then he says, to everyone and no one in particular, as I guess he should be expected to say,

“I’m going to start up my own Suicide Channel”


  1. Matthew Lickona says

    Imagine if he'd started serenading the mannequin, singing "You Are My Sunshine."

  2. Rufus McCain says

    Right. The suicide channel is so predictable.

  3. Matthew Lickona says

    Of course, "You Are My Sunshine" has its own sort of predictability. I suppose to be really unexpected, he should have started reciting the book of Job.

  4. Rufus McCain says

    There used to be a guy that would roam the streets and ride the buses of Seattle, repeating in a low mumble: "Symptomatic nerve gas … symptomatic nerve gas…."

  5. Quin Finnegan says

    Click on the title, by the way. That is the dude; I'm not the only one to enjoy his … dramatic sensibility.

  6. Rufus McCain says

    Nice touch that the bus is destined for White Center.

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