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The Bus Witch

By Patrick

I need help. Those of you who are familiar with the Bus Witch understand my predicament, for today on the 51, I was hexed.

The story beings with a pretty straightforward encounter, when she and her assorted parcels/baggies/wheely-thingies boarded the bus and kicked me out of my seat: "I need to sit down."

I promptly vacated -- the last thing anyone wants to do is catch her attention, which quickly escalates from ire to fury to wrath -- but it was too late. She started making conversation, and I knew I was in her sights. When she told me I was a nice looking boy, I pretended not to hear. When she repeated herself, I developed a sudden fixation on my phone, managing to snipe this covert (albeit blurry) shot. Then she said, sort of speculatively, "It is alway a shame when nice looking kids die early."

Yipes!

That grabbed my attention, but I kept my head down.

When I still didn't answer, she paused, straightened up, and then said in a firm, clear tone: "You may be nice looking young boy, but with your tattoos, you will die early of blood poisoning." I could swear there was an erie moment of stillness on the 51, and I felt my guts turn cold. Then everything snapped back to normal, she turned to face the front of the bus, and I rode on in silence.

That, folks, is pretty much a hex.

Which means, during finals week and with a few airplane flights and a summer motorcycle trip in the works, that I am basically completely f-cking f-cked. Does anyone here know a cure? A way to forestall the spell? A skillful Good Witch, perhaps?

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Tangentially, Boaltie 1L Samkia shares some thoughts on law school, at the Shark. I would share a few remarks of my own, but I am currently preoccupied by my imminent journey to the underworld.

Full post as published by Nuts & Boalts on May 06, 2008 (boomark / email).