It took awhile to get a seat on the bus this morning. Sometimes I luck out and get a seat in the back, but today we were packed like sardines in that joint. Halfway into the ride a seat opens up and I take it. The guy seated next to me starts a conversation. “You’re pretty. You on your way to school?” Me, “Thanks, no—on my way to work.” He looks surprised and then tells me I look young to be going to work. He said I look 15—I’m 26. The man seemed cool enough even though he was trying to holla and asked how many boyfriends I have—I said 30. He then asked me to guess his age but I let him know that I don’t play the guessing game, my mom taught me better than that. He pulled out his drivers license and it read 1945—69, he aged rather well himself. Now, there is one thing I’ve learned about the bus and its patrons, they may seem all well and dandy at first glance, but let me tell you everybody on that bus got some type of story, rant, quirk, or loose screw (yea, even me). So that’s why I wasn’t surprised when he went on a tirade about homosexuality and how all people of power are homosexuals and Michele Obama is a man, Barack in a woman, Oprah is a man, Spike Lee is a woman, Wendy Williams is a man (which honestly I’ll leave that one open for debate), and so on. He said it went back to Adam and Eve and these people of power were going to destroy the world. Their headquarters are located in Santa Monica—in a hotel near Overland and Colorado. Jessie Jackson frequents the place. Luckily that’s right around the corner from my job—I know where I’ll be on my lunch break. But here’s the kicker; the man’s a doctor—surprise!