A Visual Clue

Sometimes people need a punch in the face in order to take a hint.-monkiss

Ha! quoted muhself.

I know it might be weird since my healing progress is going well, but I bought a cane a few days ago.

All the struggling onto buses by drivers who think my stablising boot is some sort of fashion statement, all the people getting mad at me for sitting in the priority seating area, made me realise people are completely and utterly stupid and need flashcards.

Wanna know who won't get up outta priority seating for me? ....this guy....and his whole damn posse

So I bought a cane and low and behold! The bus driver started using the kneeling thingy, people started offering me seats, it’s a bloody miracle!! Because the limping didn’t give it away, the brace made of steel and foam that I nicknamed the iron maiden is not obvious enough.

The crazy thing is, it actually made a huge difference in my pain, the massive overcompensating pain is less, uh, massive. Huzzah!

It’s also my first full time week back at work. Ugliness….ugliness personified. I scrabble around on hardwood floors and my motions have made my wife and I giggle our new turn of phrase for my fruitless movements…seal pupping!

This is how I get from place to place, on my belly...wooo good times

Well, I have a bottle neck situation in my brain, there’s so much I wanna write about that I don’t know where to start and so my writing is minimal. I’ll sort it out while I wait to get my computer back…the one I’m using belongs to the in-law.

g’night dear readers! monkiss

How I Came To Blows With a Stranger On The Bus

Monkiss Fisticuffs is my name…at least today, it almost was.

Sometimes dear reader, when you live in the murder capital, you have to assert yourself and then be prepared the person you’re asserting yourself with, might have a weapon…is it worth it sometimes?

Catch me in the right mood, and I’ll say yes…for example, today.

My wife and I jump on the neighbourhood bus and connect with the rapid transit corridor where the bus is late and packed and people are pretty rude about sitting in the priority seating. It’s pretty important to me since I’m in daily pain from my hips down.

What I don’t understand, as a gentleman, is that I offer people seats and go out of my way to accommodate people. My patience with teenagers, adults and the able-bodied is wearing thinner and thinner…It’s no wonder I’m close to a snap.

Today I might’ve complained about people’s rudeness a little on the loud side and got contemptable glares from the peanut gallery. B glared at me a little hoping I would shut up I think.

Then she smiled.

So this woman, able-bodied and sitting in the priority seating gets up as the bus stops and looks me in the eye, she says to me and to B, “I’m coming back to sit there,” she says. She pushes by other standing passengers to talk to the bus driver.

“I don’t care,” I call after her, I’m wearing a walking boot up to my knee, I limped and hauled myself up onto the bus and I’m taking her seat.

B walks back to the regular seating where a seat has become available and I’m sure she’s wishing she had some popcorn to watch what happens next.

As I sat down, every eye around me widened as if I broke some sort of law. The woman to my right turned away and moved as far to the right as she could. The packed audience waited with anticipation.

I put my game face on.

Cue large angry woman.

She stands over me, even though I clearly made room for her next to me on the bench seats, her hands on her hips.

“Well isn’t that lovely?” she says, taking a deep angry sigh and squeezing in next to me. Angry words on the tip of her tongue.

In my head, I’m saying: bring it sweetheart, you’re fucking with the wrong bitch

Her: “I get up for a minute and someone steals my seat,” she mutters.

I’m furious…out of the million expletives I wanted to use, I said in a raised and angry voice…

“Do you have a broken foot?”

She looks back at me with a glare and catches a look at the contraption on my foot.

Her: “No…oh…I didn’t SEE that,” she says in a hostile tone.

Me: “Well now you do, so you know what you can do.”

My wife shoots me a look and a smile from the back seating.

The woman stands up instead and spends the rest of our ride together looking at me.

I just waited patiently…I don’t have much trouble coming to blows with strangers if need be.

Mei culpa for my lack of cool headedness alright?

What would you do?

This calls for some Jay-Z:

Dear Bus Girl,

I saw you board the bus this morning and thought ‘now there’s a cool chick’.

You had an outrageous floral skirt on with loud yellows and purples, a long wool scarf and as much pink as you would dare, shoes and tights and accessories.

You sat right next to me in the easy access area with my broken foot boot dangling out in front of me and I felt happy.

I was happy because you’re a femme and you didn’t once look me in the eye and it was cool – our silent acknowledgement of one another’s presence.

You were so nerdy that it made me want to grin because I’m like a moth to a flame for mismatched, glasses-wearing girls with a penchant for sci-fi or something obscure and intellectual. And it might not have been cool when I was a twenty-something and I might have wanted to compete with you then, but now, it’s just fine if you’re smarter than me. And I bet you are.

The lime green casing over your iphone would have melted if you had looked into it any harder. I’m sorry if I made it uncomfortable for you, if you felt my gaze pressing a little too hard. I didn’t mean to interfere with your early morning reverie. I was merely appreciating you.

Today this butch noticed a kindred and it made me feel not so alone among a sea of average looking people, going about their average day. We were co-conspirators or at least that’s what my imagination wanted me to believe.

That somewhere we might pass each other by again with our respective partners and a tip of my cap would just be me saying ‘hey, glad you’re one of us’.