Monday, October 16, 2006

An Encounter on the 3B

SCENE

Emily is riding the bus home. The man sitting behind her taps her on the shoulder. She turns around.

MAN: Can I ask you a really stupid question?

EMILY: Sure.

MAN: Well, my daughter, she's at Yale. You just look like...I know the Gophers suck. Tell me, what are you majoring in?

EMILY: English. And Spanish.

MAN (slurring): Kids are getting smarter. They are. My daughter, she's at Yale, my son, he's at Princeton. It's nice to see somebody that has it together on such a cloudy day. Me, I have two things to do today. I have to go to the hospital and visit my mother. That's number one.

(starts gesturing wildly with his hands but no words come out)

Don't want to go see her. Knew when we put her in...knew what was coming. Everything bad happening to me at once. My parents, I grew up in North Branch? The horses. They're diseased. They're just diseased. My first wife, she died in 9/11. Cynthia...she was on that plane. You could look her up...on the internet ...My wife...she has breast cancer. I don't...I don't know. Can't say it. Go ahead. Turn around. I told her to go but she said "Nooo." I told her. Those people on TV? Kare 11? Kim Insley and Diana Pierce? They told her. They used to send an e-mail. Breast cancer that's bad stuff. She's at United. First I have to go to work...then I'll go see her. Her family will be there. I know it's over. I know she's dead. I don't want to go. I work over there. I don't like her family. I don't want to take 3 days off work. She'll die. I've got some marijuana in my pocket. Might have to smoke it later, after I go. Worst day of my life. My son, he's in prison. He decided to beat someone up...brass knuckles. Don't look at me like that, I didn't teach him that. My daughter, she's at Yale, I did everything for her. My wife, she died, I don't want a cent of it...it all goes to her education. I don't want it. All for her. I go to church and pray about it and she says I hope that priest tells you that you're a good person. I don't do drugs...except for what's in my pocket. I do everything for her. She's gonna be a prosecutor. I'm going to Dinkytown now...have a beer...ride all the way back to the hospital.

The bus stops at 15th & Como. Emily exits the bus.

END SCENE

5 Comments:

At 10:38 PM, Blogger Esther Finch said...

Oh lordy, Emily. Please stop talking to weird men on public buses. Aside from interesting posts, no good can come from it.

 
At 7:17 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm thinking bipolar disorder, manic episode with psychotic features. I'm not thinking Arby's.

 
At 2:16 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Seems like a snapshot of a pychotic process there.
Best not to interact too much on the bus.

 
At 2:23 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

call 612-624-walk for escort any time of day!

 
At 11:22 PM, Blogger Emilia said...

Oh, Mom. No, that's the thing. He WAS a weird guy on the bus, but not in a way that made me feel uncomfortable or unsafe. It was weird. I just wanted to give the guy a hug. I hope he feels better that he had someone to listen to him, and I hope he isn't just riding the 3 bus around and around telling his disjointed story over and over. Poor guy.

 

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