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Saturday, August 9, 2014

Bus stop HATE

As y’all know the bus stop isn't my favorite place. If you've been in my neighborhood at night you understand why unless given a ride, I don't leave the house after dark. Our part is great but the bus stop is not. The walk there is brutal on most days but sometimes in the morning its cool enough to actually be enjoyable.

This morning was one of those. I got all dressed up to go to an interview, did my makeup, hair, and pulled myself together with my “FFA Disney overdone” smile and rockin personality to go yet another interview. I was so peppy I got to the bus stop early enough to “treat” myself to a kolache and bottle of water from the store across the street, though I wonder if there is a market for bus stop vending machines?

I make it back to the stop and next thing I know a middle aged man ( if I explained him further some might call me racist) was sitting next to me, all of my senses were off (I think due to new meds), yet my gut told me to get up an run.... fast. Of course I ignored my gut because we all know I don't run. Plus I was really excited to eat my breakfast (when you dont have a job a kolache is a spulrge). He keeps talking and next thing I know it I was being touched.

For some reason I felt like I was in a dream state mixed with lots of Seriously! After everything going on in my life right now this cant be happening....like really its 9:30 in the morning, all I want this job and to eat...... this isnt real.. God seriously... It was real and it was happening.

Fast forward passed the touching, yelling, comments, the purse grab, the 911 call and me shoving him away.

Lucky for me there was a patrol in the area... ya know.... cause this is the “east” side or whatever. It took the police hardly anytime to get there and I was super impressed. I did however wish I was in Snyder where someone on the block has a gun near their porch but nope. I'm in hipster land.

During one of my crying spells with the police, trust me there were lots, I was so mad about the kolache. Leave it to the fat girl to cry cause some jerk took her food. I mean the touching I can deal with but not the food. That jerk took my 99 cent kolache, UGH. The two policemen agreed that all of my inappropriate comments were better than just having a complete melt down and that lots of people use humor to cope.


Rewind to yesterday. I cheated on my diet and made Alfredo for the first time in months. It was wonderful, until I spent most of the day “hugging the porcelain throne” while my body rejected all that pasta.
Then today I got the Kolache.

Moral of the story is that I should never cheat on my diet..... or maybe just avoid that bus stop. Or both.

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