On my way to the bakery...

An uncanny girl sat down next to me on the bus today. I didn't notice her entrance initially; rather she announced her presence with a wayward coiffure that gave off a distinct scent of cigarettes, coffee and tanning oil. While none of these things in their own right were uniquely rousing, their marriage was altogether arresting. Something told me that if the aroma of her hair were capable of keeping a secret, it would be that her pussy tastes like a glazed doughnut. Did I mention that I'm thirty-seven and I've never been with a woman? Also, I flunked out of pastry school.

This is a submission for, http://sixsentences.blogspot.com/, an online journal.

I feel certain of quite a few things:

1. High fructose corn syrup is causing your brain to swell. (pop, soda-cola-coma)

2. (Most) libraries have not yet banned roller-skating through them (for short-cutting purposes).

3. Chubby Badger Frozen Dinners are 40% whale shank. (per pocket)

4. Lawnmower fights get more publicity in the summer months. (Think beach house accidents)

5. Refrigerator magnets tell you everything you need to know about a person. If you can get into their kitchen, you can preform a fool proof compatibility test on any man or beast fortunate enough to keep a Frigidaire.

Do you like me?

Bus Stop Humor

Okay, I'll give it to you. To all of you whimsical Phoenix commuters with your fancy cars, racing too and fro as you please, I'll admit it. Riding the bus can be irritating. But for every twenty-nine clamorous, malodorous and mind numbingly mundane bus rides a person must endure in any given month, there is without fail one refreshingly original experience to be had, and today was my day.

Sitting in the sliver of (94 degree) shade that Phoenix city bus stops provide, I allowed my focus to settle on the discussion taking place between two (hopelessly intoxicated) Navajo gentlemen well into their 60's. The older of the two gentleman has taken his half guzzled 40 oz. out of its brown paper bag, torn away a strip of paper about the size of his fist and is folding and making small rips in it. Noticing that I am watching, the man waves me over and shows me his creation. Far from any complex origami structure, he presents the approximation of a small man wearing a hat, with dangling legs. Pretty one dimensional, one might falsely presume...

"Pull the legs down gently", he tells me.

He had folded this flotsom scrap in such a way that when you tug on the mans feet a bit, a little paper boner pops out.

Goldmine.

(funny enough to get a bus stop full of sweaty people laughing)

Newly reassured of his comic prowess and possessing our devoted attention, he decides to press his luck by rambling through with a sloppy joke about Elizabeth Taylor.

(Remember the last time you heard a sad joke?)

Ultimately I think he forgot he was telling a joke at all and maybe thought he really had met Elizabeth Taylor once when he was a boy. Although I'm pretty sure he just got drunk and watched a movie with her in it the night before. He never did find his way back to the punchline on that one, which is sad because there is a real shortage of Elizabeth Taylor jokes these days. After that, I noticed his breath smelled like urine. Or maybe he did. So he burped and then the bus came.

Sea Cow vs. Thunder Horse

Sea Cow: "Your theighs need powdering".

Thunder Horse: "Your udders have barnicles".

Sea Cow: "You mistake dog turds for dinner rolls".

Thunder Horse: "Your scrotum smells like a rusty bucket".

Tape Face

On the bus today I sat next to a man with little pieces of scotch tape all over his face. He kept turning to me and asking, without moving his mouth..."is my face falling off?" It wasn't, but some of the tape was.

Before you start yellin'...you better check your spellin'!

A fact about myself that you may or may not be aware of is that I work for a "Luxury Resort". It's fancy...and so are all of our clientele (klee-un-tell). Sometimes I like to talk about them. I probably shouldn't expose their eccentricities so blatantly. But last time I checked...I just can't help it.

Imagine yourself, if you please, in my designer moccasins for this droll journey:

...so a particular lady of leisure calls in to our 'At Your Service' office (phone operators desk) inquiring as to the various amenities to be found at our resort; restaurants, spa, golf, etc...and, feeling enlightened to our mission then asks if there is a separate line she needs to call to book reservations? The AYS agent tells her that it would be our pleasure to connect her, or she could call 1-800-24-CAMEL directly. She says she will call momentarily as she wants to run everything by her husband before she books the room.

She calls back 20 minutes later and asks for the hotel manager...
Its 9:30pm.
Our GM has gone home.
So I say I'll take the call.

The lady explains the conversation she has had with the AYS agent, and says she was very nice and helpful, but when she asked for a direct phone number for reservations she was given the number to a phone sex company. I asked what number she was given, and she confirmed that it was "1-800-24-CAMEL", so I offered to dial that number and stay on the line with her.

In no time we were speaking to our reservation desk. She apologized and said she must have gotten a number wrong and then hung up quickly. I found this a bit odd since she didn't MAKE a reservation now that I had connected her...but I thought, eh...maybe she was just embarrassed that she called a phone sex line and then told us about it.

Funny stuff right?
Yeah...not over yet.

This same woman calls back 5 minutes later...and asks for a manager again...not knowing she is talking to me again she proceeds...

"Sir, I have to report your phone operator because she is telling people to call sex lines...I've called the number she gave me ten times and the person on the other end asks me if I want to have sex with a SHE-MALE!?"

Turns out she wasn't calling 1-800-24-CAMEL.... she was calling 1-800-24-CAMAL.
Go ahead and dial it, sure is a sex line.
I bet she doesn't book at our hotel though...

Meeting Heather.

The most amazing thing happened to me today on the bus to work. Riding the bus in Phoenix is always a treat and a chance to get some really good people watching in. Without a book or my ipod to entertain me today I found a seat near the front of the bus and gave the passengers a quick once over. Nothing overly exciting at first glance...but quickly something fascinating began to unfold. Sitting directly across from me was a lady in her early 40's. Plump, white, blonde, casually dressed. Nothing to write home about, I probably wouldnt have given her a second look save for the fact that I caught her at just the right moment. The woman to my right, Asian, blonde, Christian, was going on and on about some Bible passage and this lady across from us just kept shaking her head, which to me implied that she was disagreeing with her interpretation of said passage. Well she kept taking deep breaths, wringing her hands, and mouthing the words, "Its okay, its going to be okay" to herself. For a time I expected her to chime in with her two cents because she seemed to be getting pretty aggitated, but she never did. I began to consider that perhaps this woman has some sort of social anxiety and that this bus ride might be a really big deal for her. In any event, she managed to calm herself down and shortly thereafter I lost my interest. Bland, blonde, bore. Over it. I didnt really notice as we reached her stop, but as she stood up and passed by me to exit, she nervously blurted, "I'm Heather, by the way". I wasnt really sure that she was talking to me so I looked around to see if in fact this comment had been directed toward me. Determining that it was, I told Heather to have a great day and she quickly scuddled off the bus. I sort of laughed and looked around and said playfully to the girl next to me, "Ha, thats odd, Ive never met Heather before". Then from outside the bus, Heather popped her head back in and addressing me once more said, "You really should come visit me in Seattle this winter and I mean it." She took a few steps away from the bus and, changing her mind came back. "You can call me any time, any time". I cant help but wonder if Heather thought she knew me, or if she was confusing me with someone else. I like crazy Heather, probably as much as I liked the blonde Asian.