Nuthin' like the smell of crazy peoples in the morning.

*retch*

I really have to start walking or buy a unicycle or something, as the following incidents all occurred within the space of two days.

FIRST O.J., NOW KOBE
Whenever anyone decides to scream about white girls, do they always have to stand immediately next to me...? I am fluorescent!

The crazy in question was selling, yes, t-shirts with the above slogan. Also, he was bellowing said slogan along with something to the effect of if you see a white girl comin', run for the hills befo' you beats her head in and then you'll get all incarcerated-like. Unless you're rich, and/or a pro athlete, in which case you'll get off. Then, he kept bustin' a rhyme: white girl get a tan, then I'm her man. Huh?!

DAMN PREVERTS
Crazy, Drunk, Falling-Off-His Seat Guy: hey girl! You gots *hic* somethin' on you BUTT!
Me: *ignoring him*
CDFOHSG: I said, GIRL! You gots something on YOU ASS!!!
Me: ...
CDFOHSG: I said, I said, GIRL...!
Me: Alright, alright! YOU CAN STOP LOOKING AT IT NOW!!!
CDFOHSG: *falls off seat*

Later, when I got to a mirror, I noticed that there actually was something all over my ass. And it was red. (Why did it have to be red?!) And I thought I was being all slick by sitting on the seat without the gum stuck to it.

Boy, is my face butt red.

MATCHES: THEY'RE NOT JUST FOR SMOKING ANYMORE
This very morning, I a) missed my regular bus because stoOpid cow-like people wouldn't get out of my way, so the doors closed *poof*! in my face; b) got on the wrong bus because the next one was apparently a flukey stray bus taking a detour and I thought it was my bus, so next thing I know, I look up and I'm headed to West Hollywood. Fluck...!

How very like a Monday. So I pop off and on buses until I'm back in the right general area, only now I no longer have correct change, having given it all to Flukey Bus No. 5. (For those of you who aren't forced to use public transpo, the buses do not make change, but yes, they will take your $20 bill - they just won't give it back. HOW NICE!) So I have to go into ze skeezy gas station to get change.

Of course, since I'm in a hurry, Homeless Man and Afro Man are both in my way. Yo Homeless, hey Afro, move your destitute asses - some people gots to get to work here. But just my Monday luck, or MUCK for short, Crazy Screamer No. 9 wedges herself in front of me and starts screaming at the cashier, even though she didn't even buy anything:

CS#9: DO YOU HAVE ANY MATCHES?!
CLERK: No, I do not.
CS#9: YES, YOU DO HAVE MATCHES!!!
CLERK: No, not anymore.
CS#9: (clapping hands, stomping feet) YES, YOU DO HAVE MATCHES AT THIS HERE SERVICE STATION!!! YOU DO, YOU DO, YOU DO HAVE MATCHES! THEY'RE NOT JUST FOR SMOKING, YOU KNOW...!

Uh. Yeah. They're also for torching gas stations. Fire hazard. Hello...?

I felt so bad, I bought some Vanilla Sweet Dreams and I don't even smoke. (Mange, you want...?)

ME: Good...morning.
CLERK: Uh...yeah.
ME: I guess I won't ask you for matches.
CLERK: No, I do not have any matches!
ME: *big grin*...I know.

I hope I at least made someone feel better. Since I have unidentified red substance on my ass, my day is pretty much for shit.