I took the streetcar downtown to see a movie with the cinema group. The organizer didn’t show up, but two lovely people who didn’t RSVP joined me at the movie. The theater was tiny. 34 seats. Right next to a book store. A big one. I was very excited.
I like taking public transportation when I go downtown or anywhere in the city, because I don’t have have to deal with parking and because it gives me quiet time to read as long as I have a seat or at least enough personal space.
There’s always a show on public transportation. Today’s opening act was a rather smelly, rather drunk guy on his cell phone. “Hi baby! I’m out going to make more money for you! When I get home, you can unlock my dick!” Thankfully, he lost signal, gave up and found a seat. He pulls a beer out of his pocket and drops a condom on the floor.
At the next stop, there is the second and third act. Act two is the guy kick boxing the air to music. Act three is the woman screaming that she’s not going to be ignored and she can’t pass the slanted part of the station.
The closing act was when a teenager shook a pineapple Fanta and opened it. He wore it, though. Not me.