Dear Diary . . . day by day

Tuesday, May 22nd, 2001 - More Crazy Bus People

This morning I was running late, mainly because I got so many amazing emails that needed replies before I left for work. My sister is probably coming back from Bali next Monday, and she wants to stay with me! There are some logistics to be worked out here, but I can probably find her a place to sleep; Holly is much less fussy than I.
Anyhow, I just made the bus, and I took the first seat that faced front (I hate the sideways seats, as I always lurch into the people next to me with the way those bus drivers drive around here). My skirt, which is a long, full patchwork one that I love, flowed out behind me as I sat down, and it covered the leg of the guy sitting behind me. Before I had a chance to yank it off him, he kicked it with a growl. I quickly tucked the extra fabric under me and muttered a "sorry 'bout that".
Behind me, I heard him say, "Don't mess with my legs, you hear?" I didn't reply to that; I'd already fixed my "intrusion" and said I was sorry. Then he roared, I mean ROARED at the top of his deep, scary bass voice, "DON'T YOU MESS WITH MY LEGS, YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!!!!!!"
I couldn't believe he was talking to me. I turned around and looked into his face, and the rage there turned my eyes as big as saucers. I quickly stood up and moved to a side-facing seat, as near to the bus driver as I could possibly get. I managed to step on some poor old Asian lady's feet in my rush, but at least she accepted my profuse apologies.
I tried to stare out the front of the bus. I tried to read. It was all I could do not to burst into tears. People, he was calling threats to me the entire bus ride. About how he'd like to shatter my pretty face with his fist, how that would teach me (what? What did I DO??). Oh, gods, I don't even want to think about it anymore. I've never been so terrified in public like that. People were staring at me (probably because they were all interested and I was much less scary than he was). I tried to read a book, but couldn't see the words. I finally pulled out a letter from Tim that I had printed out, and I read it over and over until I felt a little better.
Still, I've never been so happy to get off a bus before.
I could ponder the existence of crazy/violent people, but I don't really want to think about it anymore. I just wanted to get that story off my chest.

Exercise log:

Writing log:

I'm currently reading:
Brightness Falls from the Air by James Tiptree Jr.
On hold for now:
Henry and June by Anais Nin

My new PO Box is:
Heather Shaw
P.O. Box 13222
Berkeley, CA 94712-4222

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