so today i witnessed, and nearly partook, in old special people street fighting. who thought waiting for trimet could be so entertaining?
nearly getting smacked across the face with a pink lunch pail, i realized that she was special. that tingly kind of special that you can't ever predict. so i moved. and absorbed it all in. of course my headphones were in, and my music on pause. i positioned myself ever so conveniently that i could look across them as though i was waiting for the bus even though i was watching this horrible live action episode of Life Goes On unravel. You know, that one episode where Corky tries out for football?
she started it. there's no doubting that. she pissed him off, and he had enough of it. he dropped his igloo thermos and chased her down the street threatening to hit her back. she deserved it, afterall. it's what she deserved for hitting him last time. the third one, well she just kind of talked shit. "yeah, you tell her!"
and then came the awkward talk. an inebriated "fucking bitches" alongside a flipped up finger (adorably enough, it was the finger in between pinky and middle) stuttered out of her mouth. and then dropped his igloo thermos once more. a couple smacks to her back and shoulder, and then another jab from the other one--"yeah, hit her. she deserves it."
it was very similar to what i imagine a cockfight would be. they kind of circled around one another. it was not quite dancing around one another, waiting for a good jab. but it was more like, when you least expect it, and when you think the feud is dissolving, shit girl, another smack and run. except this time, he did not drop his igloo thermos. he instead used it as an uppercut bitch smack tool to her face. glasses came flying off, excited victory yelps erupted, and the other one didn't even say anything... she just slowly walked over with her large jansport bedazzled backpack and ever so kindly stepped multiply on the glasses that had flipped onto the ground. it was just like out of an episode of Oz, except without the sodomy. well, just then, another witness comes along and tries to mediate. but not horrified, as if this is a regular occurrence. Hmm, must be wednesday around two at the bus stop.
she's bloody and crying and howling and grabs her pink lunch pail and hobbles across the street like an injured fowl. she can't see, nor does she really have a concept of what she is doing, cuz she was just boomtanged by her nemesis, dr.HitsWomen, and nearly gets side swiped by a mustang and barrage of bicycles.
long story short, cops come one moment too late, the dynamic duo hop on board my bus and begin to sob to the busdriver. it's awkward. he needs ice for his hand. you heard it from me.
