Man, sometimes I just don’t like people. I know, I am one of the people and someone somewhere might be writing the same thing about me. But lately I’ve been finding people are mostly annoying and inconsiderate things.

You hold the door for them and they don’t say thank you. They stop and stand right in the middle of the sidewalk, or walk 4 or 5 abreast down the sidewalk, making it impossible to pass. And then there are the bus people, who will wait for the bus and never ask anyone how much the fare is, or will not have their money ready until they actually get on board, then it’s time to dig through their pocket books or wallets, sometimes asking if anyone has change of a ten or a twenty.

Tonight as I was heading home, I got on a crowded bus and found a seat in the second row. There was a guy sitting there, skinny enough for me to think it wouldn’t be that tight a fit. As usual I said excuse me as I was sitting down.

He sat there, legs apart reading the salmon colored Financial Times. I said, ‘tight squeeze, eh?’ and he replied that it was. I noticed he had about 3 inches on his left and could have easily shifted over a bit making it more comfortable for the both of us and mentioned the fact that he had a few inches to move over.

He said he didn’t have space to move. Now I’m sure the space was larger than his cock, but no- he wouldn’t move and instead huffed when I sat. So he was going to be like that. I decided that I too will sit there with my legs apart, not really caring if our legs touched.

Also adjusted my pea coat so that it wasn’t hanging over the armrest, increasing his obvious discomfort. More sighing from his side as I put my head back and closed my eyes for a minute. Then I decided to play some Siouxsie and the Banshees which I hoped would annoy him.

Whether or not it did, I’ll never know. He got off at 14th Street and I wasn’t surprised at that. Most newbie know nothings in Hoboken live up there, paying for nice addresses but not considering that they will always stand on the bus since by the time the bus makes it up to 14th Street, it’s standing room only.

He got off the bus and I spread out, enjoying the space. I don’t go looking for trouble but I can usually find it. Maybe it’s living in this metropolitan area that makes everyone tense and nervous. I can’t say I’m above it, but usually by the end of the day, I’m tired and just want to get home. Pretty much in a mellow mood since I’m too fatigued for anything anyway.

I make my beeline down the avenue, avoiding most everyone and everything. If someone actually needed my help, I’d be sure to help them out if I could. But some people are just shit, to paraphrase William S. Burroughs paraphrasing a madam from a whore house.

That’s about it for today. Tomorrow I’m going to cheer on my niece Meghan’s husband in the New York City marathon, and after that I hope to check in on Tim Daly and Hiro Takashita’s studios on the Hoboken Artist Studio tour.

I doubt I’ll be writing, but one never knows, do one?

Sean

Can't help, lovin' that man of mine...