You Went to NYC and Didn't Call Me??!*

School and work have been really distracting to the writers here at ReallyBigInEurope, and we apologize for the slight delay in posting. Thank you for your letters of inquiry, and for the 40 bucks we got from Dan in Arkansas. Dan, I speak for us all when I say that this site is not a pre-pay online call service. I don’t know how you got that idea, or my address for that matter, but you would have to send at least double that amount for us to consider your proposal. (checks payable to “cash” please)

You’ve probably guessed by now that I’m stalling and don’t actually have any news to post about. Instead I leave you with an entry from my weekend diary.

FRIDAY

8:00 AM: Fuck that was close. I got to the bus around 7:30, gave my bags to the driver so he could store them away, and asked him if there was enough time to get some coffee.
I think the driver said “You’d better make it fast. I want to leave just as soon as everything is loaded.”…although it sounded more like, “best be a quick-un..takinoff soons thing’s full.” And so I hurried. As I was waiting for my Venti-Skim-No-Whip Raspberry Latte (with extra raspberry) I glanced out the window and saw the bus taking off. The next few minutes are a little fuzzy. I ran out of the store, caught up to the bus as the light was changing from red to green and banged on the side…I don’t know what the other passengers were doing, but apparently no one notified the driver that there was a panicked girl in red running alongside the bus and screaming “Please stop the bus..please! My shit is in there!! I love you but I can’t stand the way you treat me!.”**

The bus didn’t stop. I know. Tragic.

I kept running and luckily two blocks away was another red light…I caught up to the door and this time decided to try jumping and hitting the door at the same time. I guess it was less of a decision and more of a last resort impulse. It worked. The driver perceptively noticed the pained look on my face and returned it with an uninterested “told yous t’hurry.” As I walked down the aisle to the only empty row of seats which was directly next to the bus toilet, I was reminded of the time I talked back to my 1st grade teacher and she made me walk up to the board and write my name while everyone laughed…mostly because I didn’t know how to spell my name yet and wrote “Horse” instead (which I cleverly copied from the poster next to the board, hoping the teacher wouldn’t notice) …long story short, kids are mean and some nicknames are best forgotten.

The adults on my bus are ten times meaner than my hateful 1st grade class. As I write this last sentence, I can still hear a snicker from the man with the gold tooth and cleft palate sitting in row 5.

* Just in case you should ask this when reading my post, I would have called but I was stuck with my sister's friends and they had a plan for every minute.
**This last sentence may be from another painful memory. I told you. It's a bit fuzzy.