Cambus = Camdumb.

3 Feb
For starters, Amy is allowing whiny country music to leak out of her computer speakers and fill my preoccupied space. I’m not enjoying it. I’m going to receive a lot of “bUt i LuV COUNTRY!!!!11234” comments, so spare me or I’ll chop your tits off, but I honestly don’t understand what it is people see in country music. If I wanted to hear whining and twanging, I would work at a daycare in Texas, or some other state in the deep south. Moving forward:

A cambus just about rocked this girl’s world on my way back to Mayflower this afternoon. People act like they don’t notice the 8 ton bus which is the size of a tank rumbling down the street. Don’t act surprised–it’s huge, loud, an obnoxious shade of vibrant yellow, and moving rapidly toward you like a rabid dog after its prey. Don’t step in front of a bus unless you want to die. Or if you want to attempt to suffer JUST enough to collect free tuition from the university for a year. That would be worth it. As long as you can drink with a fractured spine and a broken pelvis, I’m down.

Anyway, on to my main point; this morning while I was riding the cambus on the way to Espanol, I realized something. For some reason unbeknownst to me, there is some sort of force–some sort of phenomena upon entering the bus that actually changes walking, breathing, thinking, talking human beings into bumbling, disoriented idiots. It’s like people are carrying on perfectly intelligible, competent conversations, and suddenly as they step onto the cambus, they forget how to walk and function. Instead of taking normal steps, they acquire what I like to call the “stutter step”–a kind of shuffle that you might expect somebody overcoming traumatic leg surgery and practicing physical therapy to do. It’s as if everyone turns into a herd of mentally retarded sheep that doesn’t know what to do or where to go, so instead they look at each other with blank expressions on their faces and bump into one another like they don’t know what to do. What is it about the “move as far to the back of the bus as you possibly can” concept that people don’t get? They act like there are land mines sprinkled around the floor of the bus in the back and they’re afraid to march back there, so instead take timid baby shuffles, complicating the situation for everyone else who just wants to get behind the yellow line.

Speaking of the yellow line, some bus drivers get really freaky about it. I quote Amy Cozad, “If I was a bus driver, I wouldn’t give a shit. Hang out the fuckin window, I don’t care, as long as you’re on.” Amen. There is a certain type, or breed of people that takes that sort of job seriously. This group also includes, but is not limited to, hall monitors, librarians, some RA’s, mall police (a.k.a. “mo-po”) which also includes any sort of half ass security in other places of business, etc. These people are always wearing glasses. Watch out.

Well, I need to go read the rest of Sula, which means I need to go read SparkNotes for Sula.

“You ARE freakin out…man.”

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