How weird is that?
i probably shouldn't mention this, because it will just jinx the completion, but there's finally a new design in the works for this here website. i'm hoping to have it done before i go to minneapolis next week, but don't be surprised if it doesn't happen.
other random tidbit: i actually get to watch gilmore girls tonight, as the folks at work gave me the day off work for my dentist appointment (more on that in a moment). being able to watch gilmore girls makes me happy.
so yes, after four months of waiting and feeling pain and having items that look like caulk guns thrust in to my mouth, my dental woes have come to an end (assuming that things don't fall out and whatnot). i have a new tooth, and it's porcelain, and it's fantastic. i have yet to take it out for a test chew, as i'm still a little gun-shy, but i'm sure it'll be great.
and now, since being a contributor to the third rail would hopefully be a short-lived endeavour on my part (*), i now present three different mass transit-related stories from my bus adventures in the past couple of weeks:
the other day, i needed to take the bus home from work. needing to take the bus late at night freaks me out, not out of crime concerns or anything, but because the schedule becomes sparse after the evening rush hour, and i'm always worried that i'll miss my bus and have to make the choice between walking forty-five minutes to get home or waiting another hour and a half until the next bus comes by.
anyway, i rush to get to the bus stop in time. in the process, i neglect to get change for my ten dollar bill, the only money i have on me. so i hop on the bus that shows up five minutes after i get to the stop, and then i realize my money problem. i ask the driver if he has change, and he stares at me. "is that all you have?" he asks.
i confirm that it's all i have. he asks me again, and i repeat my answer. he continues staring at me, and begins interrogating me as to why i was so dumb in neglecting to get change for my ten. i ask, "am i screwed?"
he sits there for about twenty seconds, then says "just sit down."
"are you sure?"
"just sit the fuck down."
okay then. i sit, feeling like an idiot. i then realize that he has headphones on, and is probably listening to the cardinals game (the one they actually won a few days ago). so, in an attempt to make up for my financial transgression, i ask him how the game is going.
his response? "they're winning. and fuck you."
gotta love it.
while waiting for the bus at central and forsyth (a stop for about six different bus lines) this afternoon after my dentist appointment, one of the lines pulls up. as with all the other busses, there's a message pre-recorded by the driver telling what line and direction. this guy's message is pretty normal, but then at the end you could hear a very small child (i'm assuming his daughter, maybe three years old) saying "daddy." so very cute.
there's something about busses that forces me to talk to myself. that's right--i'm the guy on the bus who sits there and talks about everything that's on his mind. unlike most crazy people, though, i don't tell any voices to shut up or anything like that. i just talk about what i need to do the next day and stuff like that. but then again, i whisper it, so i have probably freaked out many a passenger sitting near me. this concept is oddly amusing to me.
one other thought developed from my need to take mass transit lately. i like busses. i like subways. i like the metrolink. i like mass transit. i like how you don't have to think about anything when you're on your way to or from wherever it is you need to go. you don't need to worry about traffic. and when you're waiting for a bus, you don't have to worry about being late to wherever it is that you're going, because you can just say that the bus was late and everybody understands.
everybody who rides the bus in st. louis is (usually) very nice. they are (usually) very helpful, especially if you need advice as to what line to take. they are (usually) very decent people. and they are definitely, always, very interesting.
people who drive cars are assholes. but a large part of my mind can't wait to be one of those assholes again. soon, in all likelihood (still afraid i'm going to jinx it), i will be.
this is not a reflection on the quality of the third rail or its current contributors. i just don't feel as though i would be a good contributor, since i'll only ride the bus for about three weeks or so, and then (hopefully) be back in a car. that's all.