So I was about to get on a bus to meet Houseboy Jay at the Swap-O-Rama Flea Markets location in Alsip, IL. It was late and, according to Google, I would arrive exactly 2 minutes after the flea market closed. The problem was that there is no direct bus to the flea market and despite what route I took I would have to walk nearly a half mile to get there. Walk? I thought the reason to ride public transportation was to avoid walking as much as possible. Uber, you say? That is a great idea that my bank account did not support. I am often at odds with my bank account. Stay at home, you say? That was also a great idea but I said I would go out so that I may attend the DJs of the Craft cookout. The problem was that it was in Butt Fuck Egypt (also known as Dolton, IL) and getting out to the suburbs is not the issue with travel in the suburbs. Getting back from the suburbs is the issue. So, according to Google, I had about 30 minutes to get ready to go, otherwise I might as well take a nap and forget the trip.
So I get out of the shower and walk up to the bus stop. This guy appears out of nowhere and asks to by an oil. He appeared to be in a hurry and took whatever I suggested. Cool! This trip is already a profit. Approximately 1.2 seconds later the exact bus I needed pulled up. Another good sign! I was already forgetting about my dreaded walk later in this trip. I get to the Cicero stop in no time and I see what I assumed was my bus pulling up. Crap!! Double Crap!! Crap soft served in a cone with a doo doo ball cherry on top!!! I'm overloaded and running is not an option. Suddenly, the bus turns and goes down 79th street. That's not my bus!! I'm glad I didn't run for it and stop it just to be embarrassed that it was not my bus.
I cross the street and wait at the real bus stop. Right about at that point my mind starts playing tricks on me. I am often at odds with my mind.
Mind: You should get something to drink.
Me: But I might miss my bus.
Mind: You've got plenty of time.
Me: But what if Google was wrong?
Mind: Google is your friend. Google wouldn't do that to you. Google wants you to stay hydrated.
Me: But the Pace bus doesn't care if I am thirsty or not.
Mind: It's not like you will miss the bus. There is only one bus per hour.
Me: Exactly! And I don't want to miss it!!
Needless to say, My Mind has gotten my in trouble in the past so I decided against the risk.
Mind: See? You've had plenty of time. You could have gotten a drink AND a candy bar.
Me: But I didn't want a candy bar. That's why I can't listen to you!! YOU want that candy bar!
Stomach: No, that was my idea.
Me: Shut up, Stomach!! You NEVER have our best interests in mind. We are going to a friggin' cookout!! There will be food there!
Stomach: Hey, I'm just saying! And stop yelling at me before I get upset.
So, while I was trying to think of something clever to say to my Stomach, the bus pulls up. The Pace bus driver seemed as though she was going to get off duty after this run. I blinked about four times and we were already on 95th. Wow! I may make it before the time Google said I would. As I look around the bus I see this old White couple. The guy looks as if he attended Woodstock in person. The woman resembled the wife in the American Gothic painting by Grant Wood. The guy was wearing a McDonald's uniform complete with And 1 basketball shoes. And 1s? They looked well worn, too. What if this old dude was a baller that fell on hard times? He probably played for the Chicago Bulls when they were first created. Hell, he might actually be Chuck Taylor! And to think that his girl was so loyal that she didn't leave him when his shoe money ran out! Suddenly she gets up and leaves but he stays on the bus. Maybe that wasn't his girl afterall. He gets off a few stops later. There were fifty empty seats on that bus but they sat next to each other. Oh, well. Who knows what their real story was.
So I see the Alsip water tower which meant I was close but the driver turned in the opposite direction. I jumped up and asked the driver if we were heading in the direction of the flea market . She says "that's in the opposite direction" and let's me off the bus. I'm grateful that I was paying attention and I start walking. I quickly noticed that not only were there no sidewalks but, apparently, 127th and Cicero are both friggin' HIGHWAYS!! To top that, the side of the road I was on was next to a friggin' CEMETERY!!! Can this get any worse? Yes. Yes, it can. There was this HUGE dent in the gate where a car (I assume), the gate and a tree I would say was the first tree planted in that cemetery decided to have a game of rock, paper scissors. The tree won. At least the driver wasn't that far from the cemetery. I decided to cross the street.
I get to the Swap-O-Rama at exactly 4:03 PM. Google said it would be 4:02. It takes another half hour for Houseboy to get his shit together. Another half hour to find a parking space. I had a great time there so I guess it was worth it. (I made another $40 at the cookout!)
P.S. I didn't get anything to eat until we got to a gas station after the flea market. It gave me the runs the next day. I guess Stomach was still mad about that candy bar.
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