Making borderline offensive comments and "head" puns about a kid who had his head cut off on a Greyhound bus, for instance, is something I would do. Except remove borderline from that sentence. Because they are just plain offensive. Sometimes, I think I need to meet a cop or fellow journalist or similarly minded ER doctor/nurse to share my jaded, cynical philosophy with. Then, we'd fall in love (or as close an approximation of love as two jaded cynical skeptics could muster) and make fun of stupid people as long as we both shall live.
Speaking of buses.
I rode one Saturday to get to Toronto. The bus from here to TO is great. It's like, $12. No hassle, no worrying about gas or parking, it drops me off downtown. It's great. Except for when it's packed. Which it was Saturday. So I had to share a seat with a dude. Who was, at least, sitting in the aisle seat. That should've been my first clue that something was off.
Who takes an aisle seat by choice? Weirdos, that's who. So I politely asked if I could sit beside him, then awkwardly climbed over his 18 pound backpack, which was wedged between his seat and the seat in front of him, and settled in to listen to music and think of some questions to ask a young woman who volunteered during University and helped create a wildly successful campaign to raise money for AIDS in Africa. Moments into feeling worthless and greedy and shameful, the guy taps me on the shoulder.
I removed my earphones. "Yes?"
"You wouldn't want an egg sandwich, would you?"
He held up a saran-wrapped egg salad sandwich.
I like eggs. I like salad. I like sandwiches. And yet I've never learned to appreciate the complexity of egg salad sandwiches. Go figure. Perhaps because they aren't complex. They're boring. I quite agree with Ugly Betty's cute deli-owner and Sandwich King Gio Rossi (as played by the hot-ass hottie Freddy Rodriguez - seriously. I want to tap that so hard!) when he calls Betty's boyfriend Henry, Egg Salad.
Anyway. Here's a dude I've never met who is eating what appears to be a seven course lunch meal on a bus ride to Toronto offering me half his sammich. "Um, no thanks." I should mention that at this point, I was drinking coffee and eating a very delicious and fresh and chewy bagel. I was not in need of any extra nourishment. So I found it weird that he was asking. But what the hell do I know. Maybe it was the most delicious egg salad sandwich that was ever created. Maybe - and this is a big maybe - it trumps the Grandma Lee's sandwiches I used to eat when I worked at the Dollar Store in my home town mall. Somehow, I doubt it.
But as I politely refused his offer, I thought to myself "Be nice. Make it look like you'd actually WANT to eat his sandwich, but just can't for some unknown reason. You don't want him to stab you, then cut your head off and then eat parts of you while your fellow passengers wait outside on the road."
I really do hate egg salad.
Tunes: Shad K. Win that Polaris Prize, Shad.
Tube: Clips from shows from the upcoming fall season. So far, HBO's True Blood is the only show that's even getting a "meh" out of me.
Text: The Yiddish Policeman's Union by Michael Chabon is taking awhile to get going, but I don't mind because who DOESN'T want to read about jaded, cynical jew cops in Alaska? I'm serious. Who? Jerks. That's who.
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