Every morning, I make a choice. Do I take the train or the bus. Am I in the mood for strange smells, Leroy Smith, Jones, or Williams selling candy; a manic OCD person having a meltdown in a crowded train car and mariachi bands serenading early in the morning or slightly crazy surface dwellers who fear the back of the city bus, big booty folks trying to squeeze into the seat next to me seeing my child bearing hips and thinking they can fit and my morning stalker, this lady who keeps following me all over the bus every time I take the bus even when it's empty and creeping me out (Sorry, girl. I'm flattered but I'm not interested). And driving is not even an option (I work in downtown perdition). So that's my crisis every morning.
Today it was the bus and yep my stalker is on the bus. . . I'm going to need some space, lady. Back it up.
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