Sunday, April 3, 2011

short bus all star

Today, as I was awaiting mama's french toast gorge fest '11 at Cracker Barrel, an older lady came over and said, "I bet you don't remember me." [Tangent: I really hate when people say that to me and then pause for my response. True, I could be reading into things, but it always makes me think:  a.) that they are saying their importance in my life was less than my importance in theirs of OR b.) that they assume I am slow. The whole question puts me very on the spot, and what are you supposed to say if you have no clue who the person is? "You're right...and apparently insignificant."] Luckily, I remembered her after looking at her for a minute and mentally running through the checklist of possibilities ...hmm...kindly grandmotherly type....I concluded that it was my old bus driver's aide from high school. [Tangent: Considering I haven't seen this woman in 10 years, and I had no context clues...I say that correlation deserves a high five.]

This story isn't really going anywhere, other than it stirred up a lot of memories of riding the short bus- a thing that angst-filled teenage Kimmie saw as a huge embarassment. Those were the days..when my biggest headache was attributed to my lame mode of transport. Where's Bill and Ted..because I so badly would love a phone booth to momentarily teleport me back  to 1996, so I could offer my teenage self a good old fashioned throat punch. Get thee to a Circle K.


  1. I think about the fact that the AccessRide vans are just glorified Short Buses [that I have to pay for, at that!] every time I get on one.


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