A transcript, as nearly as my memory allows, of the fools I managed to sit by on the bus home from work today. Sarah is the only name I recall.

The Dramatis Personae here are four girls, approximately fifteen years old, on their way to God-Knows-Where. Maybe to Ross Sheppard High School. I've attributed them with numbers for names, except Sarah. I sat down, and this is quite close to what I heard.

I guess it makes me a mean-spirited asshole that this conversation is now a part of the database, but if daylogs are for anything, they are for sharing the little things that make one's day better. I was unable to glean one iota of useful information throughout the entirety of the conversation; I tried to block it out with a book of Zen koans, but that didn't work either. Without further ado:

Number Two: ... big coat.

Number One: I know but I like it, ya know? That fuckin Brandi bitch from school has the same one.

Number Two: No, she doesn't. She's got the one with the stripe on the side.

Number One: Yeah--

Sarah: One of you got the time?

Number Two: Don't worry, we got lots of time. It's only like five to nine. Sarah did you call my cell last night?

Sarah: Oh my God! I swear to God I totally heard gunshots last night--

Number One: Holy shit, really?

Sarah: For real. I was like in my room, doing my nails, I just got off the phone with Jared, and I was like, you know, just sitting? And then it was like, boom boom boom. So I ran downstairs, 'cause like at first I thought it was my cat being a retard?

Number Two: Hah, my cat's a retard too.

Number One: Yeah he is.

Number Two: She's a girl. But like, this one time, I just got out of the shower, and my boyfriend gave me this necklace. You know the necklace Andrew got me, with the red heartstone on it?

Sarah and Number One: Yeah.

Number Two: Anyway I was going over to Andrew's place that night to get high and probably fuck, but I wanted my necklace. He thinks it's sexy when I just wear that.

Sarah and Number One: (laughter)

Number Two: Yeah, so like anyway? I couldn't find my necklace! So I searched my whole room, top to bottom, I emptied out all my drawers in my dresser and everything, I even looked under the bed and everything. So I run downstairs just screaming at my mom, "Oh my God mom I can't find my necklace," and she was like, "I dunno, I haven't seen it. So I was all dressed anyway, and I was pretty much ready to leave but I couldn't find my necklace still. And just when I was getting ready to go to my boyfriend's place I saw my fucking cat, fucking chewing on my necklace. Ohhhhh, my God, I was like, so fucking pissed. I totally almost killed it right there.

(brief interlude whilst Number Four enters, sits down to my right)

Number Two: So like--

Number Four: Yeah. I was just talking with Cindy.

(a tiny bag of weed is passed from Four to Two)

Number Two: Oh man I'm so hurtin' right now.

Number One: You're gonna smoke one like right now?

Number Two: Yeah, you guys wanna pitch? How much you gonna pitch?

Number One: I've got like two bucks I can throw.

]Number Two]: What about you, Sarah?

Sarah: I don't have any money, but you can cut me in anyway.

Number Two: Fuck you, bitch.

Sarah: Whatever.

Number Two: Whatever, you know you want some of this?

Sarah: Fuck off, I don't want my face in anything Andrew's been in.

(laughter all around; bus starts moving)

Number One: You're not gonna wait till after second block?

Number Two: Fuck that, man. I'm getting hiiiiigh as soon as I get off this bus. Hey, gimme your scissors and shotglass.

(items are exchanged)

Number Two: I'd rather smoke a pipe though, but I left mine at the Mall.

Number One: You dumbass, what, did you just like leave it on some table somewhere?

Number Two: Naw, me and my boyfriend were fuckin' around in the bathroom and I think it might have dropped out of my pocket. Fucking luck, man. I couldn't believe it, it sucked ass.

Number One: I don't know how you can roll that on the bus with all the moving around and shit.

Number Two: It's easy. I got skills. Andrew showed me first, and he said he learned from Joe.

Number One: Doesn't Joe roll it backwards, like with the licky side away from him?

Sarah: Yeah. I seen him do it, it's fucking weird.

Number Two: Well Andrew showed me this way and it works alright.

Devon: You know, my mother rolls away from her, that way, with the sticky side the other way.

(blank, semi-vacant stares in my direction, as we approach my stop)

Devon: Seriously. When you do the paper backwards like that, it's the only sure way to successfully roll a joint one handed, in my opinion. If you don't believe me, find someone to buy you some tobacco, and practice. It'll dry your weed out if you're constantly fucking with it.

(more stares, and a look passes from Two to One, then to Four)

Devon: I'm just fucking with you. Only retards with no sense of style would endeavour to roll a joint any way than the tried-and-true. It's probably the sign of the apocalypse that old Joe here play with his weed backwards.

(I get up, head to the door, many whispered comments commence)

Devon: Sorry about that. I was lying again. Who gives a fuck how your idiot friends roll a joint? What are you, like fucking twelve?

Man. Am I glad I never met me.