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I realize at 28 I'm not as smart or together as I thought I was. This is a sobering realization. I think.

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The Jackass Chronicles

The 151

Taking the Bus Of The Damned to work is no fun. No fun whatsoever. I waited over a half an hour for either a cab or a bus I could actually physically board in pouring, blowing monsoon-like rain. Finally, a 151 came and I had no choice. All the expresses had been full so I boarded with much trepidation. Once inside, it was worse than I imagined. Everyone had a sour, sour look on their face. The windows were steamed up. The floor, the seats, everything was dripping wet. And the heat was on FULL BLAST.

It's 65 degrees here this morning. Easy.

I could feel my hair frizzing up, the sweat started to run down my forehead. I could feel the first pricklings of underarm sweat. I looked around. Men seemed to be in a Zenlike meditative state to beat the heat and the ladies, well, the ladies just glared. Not even enough room for me to manuever to take off my coat. Don't sweat, don't sweat, don't sweat. It's not that hot, it's not that hot, it's not that hot. Maybe I can reach that window, but what if that window is stuck like 96% of all the windows on the busses? Then I'll be even sweatier from the exertion and everyone will be watching me, making me me flop sweat from performance anxiety. Don't sweat, don't sweat, it's not that hot, it's not that hot.

I was That Girl for the first time ever. "CAN YOU TURN THE HEAT OFF? please?" Glaring eyes in that huge mirror. "Heat's automatic."

Oh. I guess I can buy that. Don't sweat, don't sweat, you're cold, you're cold.

It wasn't until much later that I realized that couldn't possibly be the case. If it was temperature sensitive, why would the heat be going on at 65 degrees? Can the bus tell time? Does it have some super technology buried deep within its rusting guts that can tell when it's November 1st and therefore the Heat Will Always Be On until May? What the fuck?