SEASON OF DREAD-part two

I was over on Court Street here in Brooklyn, awaiting the B63 bus and minding my own business. Among the usual assortment of human dregs at the bus stop was an annoying little girl of perhaps eight years of age who was doing everything in her power to get attention from anyone who would give it. She held a plastic army man in her hands and would throw it into the air, and when it hit the ground she would pick it up, run to total strangers and scream "Look! Something from space! Look! Something from space!" The bystanders politely tolerated her while her mother barely looked up from her copy of PEOPLE magazine to wearily offer "Anna-Maria, please sit still" with no success whatsoever. The kid then ran circles around the bus stop, often bumping into the people standing there with no concern for them at all.

Finally the bus arrived and everyone boarded. Lucky me, I got stuck behind the girl and her family, none of whom seemed to have the slightest clue how to use a Metrocard, and their mother hadn't fished out the change for her fare so she retreated into the back of the bus to gather enough coins from her purse. As the bus started, the mother dropped her change and began to root about on the floor in search of it, at one point reaching between my legs without so much as an "excuse me." While this was going on, her daughter decided to launch into a shrill version of "The Twelve Days of Christmas," perhaps the most diabolical example of Christmas music since it is not only repetitive as all hell, it is also incredibly long. Anna-Maria's quest for attention now became sheer torture as the passengers were trapped listening to her until their stops came up. She performed the song IN ITS ENTIRETY and I nearly went mad; Christmas isn't for another two whole months and it was bad enough to have to endure that song pre-season, but as the song progressed Anna-Maria got louder and louder with not one word from her mother. Worse, the passengers, though clearly just as peeved as I was, politley smiled at the horrid little urchin.

In a vain attempt at self-defense I plugged my ears for much of the journey and only removed my forefingers from my poor aural receptors when I heard the kid finish the interminable ditty. With "The Twelve Days of Christmas" now stuck in my head I attempted to settle in for the rest of the ride but solace was not to be mine; Anna-Maria opened her pie hole and began to shriek the accursed "Jingle Bells." At that point I almost got off the bus despite the fact that my stop was still more than ten blocks away. I briefly contemplated screaming "Oh, will you please SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!," but I stuck it out until the Union Street sign was in sight. Fittingly, the rear doors of the bus opened and I stepped out onto a fresh pile of garbage awaiting the next morning's pickup.

And to think I still have more than two months to go until this festive shit comes to a grinding halt... Must...stay...strong...