Hear and They're in Coincidental Moments

(A twist on Raymond Queneau's, Excercises in Writing)

I wake up late today. The numbers 11:23am stare and poke fun at me as I look through my sleepy-coated eyes. Damnit! What cell phone company makes its standard alarm setting to the tune of Braun's Lullaby. Not to mention the fact that I am missing the volume Button on my phone. I shit, shower, and surrender to not shaving in the absence of time to make the S bus. I run out the door, only to notice, it is snowing and the top button on my petticoat pops off as I fly out the door, and push the button for ground level on my apartment. Oh well. Who needs buttons anyway. A rusty safety pin that I find in the bottom of my bag does the trick to temporarily 'hold me together'.

The platform for the S bus is ridiculously crowded with imbalsils and intellectuals alike. There are stupid floppy hats, short skirts, cigerettes, and a talking decibal level that could probably be heard on the moon. If we had a button to push that could do that. The sky is nebulous, little plops of snow-like slushy material land like little coagulated buttons as they hit the pavement. I notice a particular man, with a neck like an anorexic giraff and a hat as unappealing as his face nudges past me as we swarm onto the bus. He's listening to some stupid overly sexed, dance hall beat on his ipod. He smells like Whiskey. Cheap Whiskey. Im replacing the safety pin to the top of my coat, when this 'neck and hat fellow' does a little jolt and falls onto the pin I am attempting to replace to my petticoat. Definitly not safe. He jumps back, shoots me a glare from Hell, spits a splatter of brown saliva to the bus floor and then stammers past me to meet his friend. I hit the pause botton on my own music just in time to hear this man talking to his friend about the safety pin pricking. I also notice as people get on and off the bus, this same annoying man is stepping on all of their toes; repeatedly and not nonchalantly at all. Talk about really pushing peoples' buttons! Finally after a stuffy 1 hour and 53 minutes on the bus, the giraffe neck jerk gets off the bus, and squashes 4 out of my 5 toes on my left foot. I let it go, but mentally tell the prick off as he walks by stupidly. As he steps off, the safety pin on my coat falls to the floor. I don't bother to pick it up.

The day continues in a similar fashion. Many pin-prick contusions to my ego and stepped on toes prevail, realing thier ugly heads all throughout my day. I need nicotene. As I am walking to the bus that will carry me home, I approach two men who appear to be deep in conversation. I ask to bum a cigarette, and albiet, the anorexic giraffe looks up at me unknowling realizing we shared in each others pain on the S this morning. He hands me a cigarette, smoothly hits the button on his zippo lighter, and ignites my stick into pleasure. The two men go back to quarreling about the importance of proper button placement on a lapel and I walk into the night, but on a new trail this time...