I Know How I’m Going to Be Murdered



So, I live in the hood. I don’t care too much for the terminology but I suppose if I had to describe the environment I live in that would be it, so it is what it is. I like where I live very much….it’s off the bus route, there are 3 grocery stores within walking distance and about 8 liquor stores in walking distance. However awesome that sounds, I know I’m going to be murdered here and how and why.

My biggest pet peeve of all is the random black woman attitude. Yes, I myself can be bitchy or rigid if you cross me but for the most part that’s not my normal disposition. Just yesterday I proclaimed that I needed to work on my temper and I feel I’m doing very well because I managed to not punch this woman in the face, thus avoiding an assault and battery charge.

So, I clamber on the bus all disheveled and disoriented as usual because morning. As soon as I pay my fare the bus starts moving– because God forbid the bus driver lose three seconds of travel time waiting for me to sit down–and I swing into a seat next to a sleeping woman. I think I said excuse me but in retrospect I don’t know and don’t really care all that much. Why? Because this particular bus is crowded every single day, especially in the morning so I have no patience for the self-centered assholes who store their bags in the seat beside them OR, in her case, store their bag in between  her and the wall which meant she was sitting well into the middle of a two-seater! Anyway, I swing my ass into the edge of the seat as far as it will go and grumpy bear wakes up complaining in the deepest voice I’ve heard on any woman, “Damn, can I scoot over first?!”  
Me: You sure can.
Her: You didn’t even say excuse me! You just–
Me: OR maybe I did, you just can’t hear me with your headphones on. It’s early in the morning ain’t nobody messin with you! Shit!
Her: *pulls out gun and shoots me in the face*

Ok, the last part obviously didn’t happen, but it will if I don’t learn to curb my smart ass mouth. I thought about just switching seats, but I’m a grown woman—that’s where I wanted to sit so I should be able to sit there. So I sat there, all the while entertaining violent thoughts of just smooshing her stupid head against the window and eating her snacks she had lying on top of her bag. (I don’t know why I would eat her snacks—perhaps that kind of violence makes you hungry, I would imagine…) It’s December 31, I still have some time to turn over a new leaf, and I can only pray I don’t get murdered for being a jerk in the meantime 🙂

2 thoughts on “I Know How I’m Going to Be Murdered

  1. Pulling out a gun and shooting you in the face sounds more violent than your idea of smooshing her head against the window.. If violence does make you hungry, maybe that’s why she had all that food with her!

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