Beef wellington, well done with extra gravy. 

It’s already bad enough that I was in a hurry enough to run after the bus. I thought the world was smiling at me in the form of an amiable red light that stopped the driver I thought didn’t see me. 

It wasn’t until I tapped on his window and saw how he dodged my eyes that I realized this is just a pissed off bus driver in a position of what he considered authority. 

When we finally met faces he told me to go back to to the bus stop. He knew I ran after him, and he refused to let me on. Something inside me set ablaze. Was he racist? Did I fuck his daughter? Have I wronged this man in anyway to be treated that way? 

I figured since I was already being treated like I wronged him, that I’d wrong him properly. I flipped him the bird, but he didn’t see it. It just wasn’t enough. 

I sprinted as fast as my feet allowed me to. I reached a bike station, swiped my card, took a bike and peddled till the next bus station where I knew he would be. 

I faced the wind, traffic and my bad stamina and pushed beyond any limitations I had ever established before and reached the bus station where I waited. 

He approached and I could tell it was him. His face was imprinted into my eyes. The bus door opened, and I layed the bike on the ground, walked up, tapped the door, and when he looked at me, I launched all the phlegm that built up in my lungs from biking and running right into his Fucking face. 

He screamed and jumped out to follow me. I biked away laughing. I missed my appointment, but it was worth it. 

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