Super-Destructed Bus Shelter

It’s a rare occurrence to find a bus stop with a bench and rarer still to find one with a shelter so when one no longer exists the mourning is all the worse. Like losing a baby panda or white Bengal Tiger, the community can’t help but be taken aback by such a tragedy. First there’s the confusion, then there’s the depression and soon after the anger. Right now I’m currently in the anger phase.

Last week as I strolled to my bus stop I noticed yellow tape all over the place. Some people were hanging out dissecting in Spanish the reason and though I speak Spanish about as well as a first year student—I can name all things kitchen related—I didn’t need much to figure it out. The east end of the shelter was destuctibled and the old bus sign had been replaced

In my head I mocked the idiot that slam bombed this innocent stop but my mockery turned quickly to fear, realizing that I stand with my bike in the exact area where the car decided to off road it. In fact while standing there at nights watching the cars zooming past at a impressive 40 miles an hour (it’s a patch of asphalt that is surprisingly fast even at rush hour for about an 8th of a mile) I often think about someone losing control and killing us all at the stop. It wouldn’t be too difficult, just a simple sneeze and twitch and the car is up on the curb murdilating some innocent bystanders.

Upon further investigation I learned that the accident occurred in the daytime and not at 3am as I had hoped, causing some bodily injury, even if only minor, to the asshole driver (anger phase remember). I pulled my best Ace Ventura and examined the mud tracks the offending vehicle left behind.

From my investigation it looked as if it was a two axel vehicle weighing the perfect amount to kill any all in its path and if my hunch is correct the back axel had two tires, making murder-death-kill all the more plausible. However, my fellow bus-riding brethren and I were all lucky and no one was hurt.

That is to say, no one but my exotic Egyptian Bebe model. You see, by destroying the shelter the offender also destroyed my evening moonlighting sessions with the magical glow of the Bebe models as they postured themselves on bed pillows and ottomans in low blouses and high skirts.

Now, as I wait in the fleeting dusk, I’m all alone with nothing but the Spanish language to misunderstand to pass the time. We all know that automobiles have ruined so much but this time they’ve gone too far.