The People in Front of me today……Entry for October 16, 2008

My morning coffee is the most important of the day. I am a dragon without it. I am waiting for the guy in front of me to “fix” his coffee. Where I go, there is only room for one person. All I put in my coffee is half and half. I don’t even stir it. I figure it stirs itself by the time I get to the car or walk out the door,
The man in front of me is taking too long.
Mix. Stir. Taste. Oh, a little more sugar. Mix. Stir. Mix. Taste.
The man in front of me has decided that his coffee is a fucking science project.
Oh, a tad more milk.
Mix. Stir. Taste.
I am going to kill this caffein scientist very fucking soon.
Then, at the counter, he is there again. Talking. And talking. I know everything he did in the past two days. The store owner seems not to give a shit. Neither do I. Talking, talking talking. Shut the fuck up.
Now the lady is next. She has decided to pay with change. Quarters, dimes but mostly pennies. She wants to talk too. Her dog is very sick. He has something wrong with his stomach and they might have to operate. She is still paying and counting change. I hope my dog doesn’t die, she says. I hope he drops dead while she is counting pennies.
LATER that night. I am in line waiting for my bus to come home.
The woman in front of me has a very large ass. No, I mean it is big. REALLY fucking big. I have never seen anything like it. It is so round, almost like a mountain cliff….or a planet maybe. I am imagining myself very small and climbing that planet. It is very difficult and I hope I don’t fall off. Holy cow this is a big fucking ass.
Now the lady, sitting in the chair across from the bus line has seen me staring at this woman’s ass. Shit. That sucks. But fuck you lady. I’m not staring at it sexually. I am wondering how she washes it when she takes a shower.
NOW I am on the bus. The man in front of me is Jamaican. He is on the cell phone. He is telling his whole day to the person on the other end of the phone. He speaks very loud. I like his accent. But I hate his laugh. He laughs like Ernie from Bert and Ernie on Sesame Street. He laughs alot.

About George C. Hartman

Redesiging design, coloring outside the lines, rolling down hills, figuring out strange people, dreaming in black and white, photographing in black and white, juggling, body surfing, fantasy football, painting, design, digital art and photo manipulation, green oceans, blue oceans, museums, discovering small towns, biking, beach, relationships that tear my heart out, bad poetry, movie making and BLOGGING
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