Boarding the Number 40 bus, heading downtown to meet with pals in town from Los Angeles for a fallen friend of theirs' funeral. First words I hear climbing aboard and heading for my seat? A raspy, nasal Bronx accent, honking into his cell phone, "I'll see you in Hell, shitheel!...Yeah, I'll see you in Hell!"
"Yeah, I remember my first acid trip...." Oh, shit! Did I say that out loud? Must have, judging by the laughter around me....
Now realizing I have a captive audience for my impromptu stand-up act, I wave off Mr. See-You-In-Hell a few stops down: "Give my regards to Satan!"
About a minute later, I hear a mother inform her teenage daughter: "No, I never once got high when I was pregnant with you!"
Wow, didn't realize I was riding the RTD with Courtney Love and Francis Bean....
A minute passes, and a really chubby guy whose face hadn't seen a razor (and possibly, a wash cloth) in a couple of days climbs aboard...in a full pink fairie's outfit: Wings, tutu, magic wand, the whole nine.
I...I...I've got nothin'!
(Soundtrack for this slice o' life: The Hangmen.)