a Public Transport Memory, or Part of Why I Walk Everywhere Now

The time I was alone on a bus with two girls who couldn’t have been older than thirteen (they were wearing middle-school uniforms) and overhearing one of them say, “It hurts so much. Sweat doesn’t lube well, not good at all”.
The other one replies, “Haha, I could’ve told ya that. Is it bigger than any shit you’ve tooken (sic)?”.


If their parents were like mine, they’d be making friendship bracelets for each other or bitching about the piano teacher on their way home to finish what they couldn’t do in class BUT NO (. As their too-loud conversation clattered along, I overheard that one of the girls was on her way to see the aforementioned sweaty butt-hurter and the other girl was her cover / parental decoy. A human alibi.

I’ve covered for a friend who was up to pretty much the same stuff. Many times. But that was in my late teens and even then, I had a massive problem with being, in a way, her sidekick. The girl in question is in prison now due to assaulting someone during a manic phase (or so I heard), among other charges that I can’t remember. Or maybe she’s out now, I’m not sure. Which sucks, but the last time I talked to her, she was describing a home-job tattoo that got done when she was on some serious shit.

The story was all over the place and I got bitched at for not saying much, which made her feel self-conscious. Being accused of projecting insecurity by someone who’s projecting their insecurity is hard to deal with. Character assassinations and unsolicited insults for not approving of someone’s nonsense are also hard to deal with. So I noped the fuck outta that one, out of respect for myself. I hope she’s OK, but something in me tells me she’s not.

Damn it, decoy girl. You are not the co-star in your best friend’s ME ME ME show. Save yourself! Before your life starts sucking due to someone else’s shambolic idea of friendship.

Thought I’d share that lovely encounter with the sexually precocious dick-jockeys of Dunedin. Definitely not worth remembering or sharing, so I made sure to do both. Viva la Pointless.


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