25-September-2009 4:00PM

"Hey, Backpack Guy!"

"Who?" (for I am not at all wearing a backpack).

"Ya got something for me?" while the fuming stench of alcohol streams from every exhaled word.

I give her a puzzled look of disgusted incredulity, to which she slightly gasps, taken aback.

"Unless I'm mistaken?" she asks with pertinent annoyance.

"Yes, you are mistaken," I relate her forcefully, not wanting to confuse her delirious sensibility or actually have to continue this conversation much longer, as she was seated next to me with a little more familiarity than I would have liked.

"Well fuck!" she says, "guess I'm up shit," she scoots over finally, giving me a bit more breathing room. I must have made an involuntary noncommittal "humph," because she started to stare forward with a manipulative wounded animal expression. A route 312 pulls up to the curb and to rest a shadow over both of us.

"Where does this bus go?"

"To Lake City," informing her succinctly as possible.

"Hmmm, I need to get to the hospital."

"Which one?"

"University hospital. Should I get on?"

"Yeah, you need to get off at University-"

She gets up abruptly, but cocks her ear in my direction indicating that she's still listening.

"...then take the 10 or the 12."

Hopefully she didn't hear that last part because I don't believe either of those routes go there since, if memory serves those routes will take her to Capital Hill.

Oops!