Thursday afternoon, I put on my frayed trainers and headed out the door. The weather was perfect for a good walk to I had to go out and enjoy it. I knew I only had a few days of good weather left before the air turned too cool to go outside.
Things were great. I wasn’t too hot. I wasn’t too sweaty. Ear buds were firmly in place, pumping music into my extremities.
And then the school bus passed me.
It’s always awkward when vehicles pass me. I can see people crane their necks to look through the rear view mirror at the bearded stranger walking down the dirt road.
It’s worse when it’s a bus filled with curious and obnoxious children. That particular bus has passed me a few times and I always caught glimpses of smashed noses and oily forehead prints on the smudged glass.
Being the beautiful day it was, the bus windows were down to allow the sweet little
bastards angels to enjoy the cool breeze. As the bus rolled past, I saw a white ball whirl by me and hit the blades of grass at my feet.
I looked up and saw glowing brake lights as the bus skidded to a stop. Through the blasting music, I heard the bus driver’s booming voice spill over the open windows. I surmised he was yelling at the littering little snot. I was only feet from the bus so I slowed my pace. I didn’t want to pass by and risk being pelted with more paper or insults.
“What the hell is this guy doing?” I asked myself about the driver. The bus just stood in the road, the brake lights illuminating my embarrassment.
Finally, I just turned around and walked in the opposite direction. I heard the squeak of the tires as the bus started up again. I didn’t look back until I was down the hill.
Oh, why do I always find myself in these awkward situations? I kept thinking what the kids must have been thinking. “Hey, John, let’s throw this piece of paper at the fat loser walking in the dirt road!” I don’t like being “that” guy, the one people think they can push around or make fun of. Especially when it’s a bunch of middle school shits playing the bully.
I looped back around to the spot where I was almost hit with the wad of paper and found it on the ground. I picked it up, smoothed it out and saw it was poorly colored paper Santa.
|By the way, you did a crap job putting that Santa together, Pablo Prickasso.|
I just wanted to burn some calories and clear my head, not catch a paper cut from Kris Kringle. Thanks for the holiday cheer, Timmy. I hope you get coal and canker sores for Christmas. And people ask me why I don’t like kids!