26-November-2007 6:20AM

“I traded in the DVD for Apple TV…and I live with eight girls, so I may get to watch Sports Center at about eleven o’clock…although it does make the rent cheap,” the Bandana Broad says to the Perpetual Workout Clothes Guy.

“I would imagine so,” he replies.

“I just wish that one of them liked one of the sports: baseball, football, you know.”

Her bandana is pink today, and although I cannot see her face, I know that I have mentioned her at least a couple times in here. Her accent is not surprising given her outward appearance, sounding like she grew up in the country somewhere and is used to the avid consumption of head cheese.

Since her palaver fizzled to a close with the Workout Clothes Guy, she’s been totally engrossed with searching through whatever sack or bag happens to held within her lap. That is of course until someone leans into her aisle seat.

***
Lady #2 acts like she’s going to sit next to a pretty Asian woman, then decides against it as she spots someone she knows further aft. Almost immediately she begins from the end of a previous conversation:

“Oh, and another good place besides REI is Blahawish Emporium,” (sorry, didn’t really catch that first word).
A debate starts here, and goes on for about five more minutes ranging from stores like Fred Meyer, REI again, and this mysterious ‘Emporium’ during which time the ever-so-ridiculously annoying Big Red plops down next to me. At first, my peripheral vision tricks me into thinking it was the ‘Sickly Sleeper’, for both possess the same demeanor when lazily engaged in a freefall over the seat, impacting said rest area as if the wear and tear of a millennia were worn into their bones (all on the surface obviously). Of course, it turns out to be Big Red, like I said…evident from the obvious as well as his inane and unscrupulous attempt(s) to decipher what I am writing in here in this Moleskin. I had almost forgotten about that. In fact, just as I paused to get at the solution to the ambiguity as to why the bus has suddenly slowed down by directing my gaze out the window, I catch the bastard shortly thereafter maniacally glancing into the book of scribbles. I guess I must thank my genetic predisposition for purposefully poor penmanship, and my long-fingered hands for effectively shielding these words from unwanted and unsolicited views.

Anyways, he departs at the first stop downtown.

Sayonara jackass!