| | NOTE: If you are under 16, please do NOT read this note. For your own sake. Growing up happens fast enough.
Bus rides are wonderful.
But bus STOPS and WAITING FOR THE BUS are even better.
Thursday afternoon/night, I had to run out to a house and grab some stuff in Stapleton. I took the 7 to connect with the 38. On the way back, I had a significant wait for the 7.
While waiting, I met and sat next to Ronnie.
Ronnie was/is a 50-60's ish black man who had been drinking. How much, he never told me.
Well, Ronnie quickly figures out I'm not from around here. So he asks me why I'm here, what I like to do, etc. I tell him I'm here for the summer and I love to play tennis. Somehow, the conversation goes onto girls. Ronnie asks me what type of girl I like. I said it depends on the location. Ronnie pressed to find out what type of girl I liked RIGHT NOW. Well, I told Ronnie, I fall rather easily for the blonde, toned, tanned beauties (bleuch, who oftentimes are so aware of the fact they're beautiful. GROSS). In Bolivia, the girls with the long, beautiful black hair and huge eyes definitely caught my eye.
Ronnie wasn't satisfied. He asked me if I had ever touched a woman.
Mind you, I've had some strange conversations here in Denver but Ronnie's tops the cake so far.
I said no, I plan on staying a virgin until I enter long-term commitment with a woman that feels likewise.
He then said, well, you GOT to have some "cushy." (hey, it rhymes with cushy, ok?) Otherwise, how was I going to know which cushy was right for me. He said, man, I used to believe the same thing growing up. But cushy is cushy. I tell my son, son, enjoy as much cushy as you can.
Internally feeling very awkward, I smiled at Ronnie and asked him what about the WOMAN'S emotional, social, and financial needs.
"Well, that comes after her cushy needs are fulfilled. See, I like to refer to them as foxtails. You know, since girls don't have d**** (except for a very small one), they need you to fulfill their cushy needs. Hey, why don't we go out right now and get us some cushy."
I was like, Ronnie, we're waiting for the bus. (I wanted to add, and I don't want to have the chance of getting a girl pregnant, contracting any STI's, and generally get sexually involved. I was freaking tired and not looking to do anything but eat and then sleep)
Ronnie wouldn't give up. "You know, not all cushy is alike. Some are wide, and some are thin. You won't know how to find that special cushy that fits you best until you git yoself sum cushy. I say, why don't we go to a Motel Six, get us some FINE cushy, and have a great time."
Fortunately, the bus came. Goodbye to Ronnie and his focus on cushy. (It's funny, he didn't even mention breasts)
The 7 was pretty packed. Across from me, there was a 20s-ish guy reading a magazine that had scantily clad women covered by leaves. Actually, there were tons of plant forms in the magazine.
Well, I wasn't the only one to notice. A 45 year old man sitting kitty corner from the magazine reader, in a loud voice, told him, Dude, I love weed! I've been smoking it since I was fifteen! My wife thinks I'm crazy, but she's soon to become my ex-wife, the bitch. The problem with those magazines is that you don't know if the seeds in them are males or females. And the best pot comes from the females, you know?
At that, the bus driver started chuckling and some of the people around him stared at him for a few seconds.
His response?
"What are you all looking at? Go back to reading your goddamn Bibles. Even the fucking cops smoke pot!"
I then had to get off but I don't think I will forget that night anytime soon.
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| | Posted 6/16/2008 2:13 AM - 61 Views - 6 eProps - 3 comments
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