Rarrrgghh!

I should really learn to write when I'm less irritated. That said, here's my laundry list of all the little things that have converged to piss me off in the past four hours.

After a perfectly enjoyable (if a tad boring) day at work, I go up to Chinatown to wait for the 80 to take me home. Bus timetable sez that on Sundays the northbound 80 arrives there at 6:23. My watch sez 6:08. Cool. Even allowing for the 5 minute margin of error that this town thrives on, I'm still golden.

Tick... tick... tick...

6:23. No bus.

6:28. No bus. They've now passed the margin of error.

Tick... Tick... Tick...

Damn it's cold out here.

If one more smelly, hairy person gets up in my stuff and badgers me for money, I'm going to go ape shit.

Tick... Tick... Tick...

6:43.

Call the girl. Maybe she knows where this X2 bus goes. You know, the route that has a bus every freakin' minute. Girl sez I should just take a cab, but that seems silly to me. Cabs in DC cost too much.

Alas, she doesn't know the X2's route.

Tick... Tick... Tick...

6:48.

A mental list of the buses I've seen go through or near this intersection, in no specific order: 70 (4 of 'em), P6 (2), Circulator (3), X2 (4), 42 (3).

Maybe I should go back down to Olsson's to warm up. Or over to the sbux across the street. No, wait, they just closed. Damn.

Tick... Tick... Tick...

6:53.

Call the girl again. Maybe she can see me on the traffic camera. Hi girl. I like talking to the girl. I'm just annoyed. And now, the one fun thing I've devised to keep myself entertained over the past 45 minutes I have to stop because, oh look, there's my fucking bus.

So, as it turns out, either the 6:23 bus never showed up and this was the regular next bus, or this dude was really late. I'm learning, however, not to take my frustrations out on other people. But the other people waiting for the 80 have not even attempted learning this.

6:54-7:01: Wow. These people just will not shut up about waiting for an hour. That seems to be an awful lot of time to waste on a dude whose fault it may or may not be and who doesn't really care anyway.

I get home exactly one hour after getting to the stop in Chinatown. Note to all: bus service on Sundays in DC blows.

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There's been other stuff today this weekend that has annoyed the hell out of me, but I'm not gonna bother with it. All I have to say is that if there isn't at least 4" of snow on the ground Tuesday morning, there's gonna be hell to pay.