A man named Velvet

Today I took the 704 bus back from Santa Monica to Hollywood (where I’m staying). I just got done working out so I’m sweaty, gross, tired, and in no mood to talk. But there is an open seat (BLESSING FROM GAWD!) next to this guy wearing daisy-duke shorts (well, barely… they are kinda all ripped up) and a zipped-up hoodie with bandages across his chest (no explanation of that). His teeth, according to Breaking Bad, looked like he was 4 months into a meth habit and he reeked of gin. (the cheap kind.)

Most people would be smart and not take the blessed seat, but when you have a backpack of your belongings, 7 blisters on your feet and you just did 150 squats + running 2 miles— you look at this seat as a sign! Then he compliments my hair (who doesn’t?) and insists that we are related (because we both have curly hair). I humored him and took off my ear buds (which I rarely do unless I’m short of entertainment in my life) and decided to talk to him. Here’s what happened:

“My name is Velvet. I have a husband. His name is Calvin. He has a giant penis that I like to ************HI MSFT IT!************. My favorite color is purple. What’s yours? I really like those target backpacks. I like that car (points to a car) but oh! girl! I hate those! (points to another car). I really think that if you want something that someone else has, you should just take it–because that’s how we live, amirite?”

(pause)…. I take advantage of this pause and say

“I’m LN. my favorite color is blue. I think we should all live with what we are given, but I’m a minimilist like that.”

(he fist bumps me at this.)

He then takes my ear-buds (that are specially made for MY ears) and sticks them into his ears. (they are boiling water as I type this). He then demands that my ipod shuffle play a rap song for him. I try to explain that it doesn’t work that way. (Then I try to explain what an ipod is–because he doesn’t know).

He then gets all huffy and starts talking to the window. Then, apparently, the window talks back and so he gets in a fist-fight with the window. The woman in front of us gets startled and he screams at her “YEA! ONE LIKE THAT TO YOUR EYE AND YOU’RE *punches window* BAM! BLIND LIKE A FUCKING BAT!”

The bus driver was helping a handicapped person get on and was distracted from all this.

Shortly after this, Velvet looks over his shoulder and sees someone who (may or may not) have looked at him and started screaming at him. This is when someone else comes and tries to break it up– and it all ends up with a giant fist-fight where Velvet gets socked twice in the mouth. Velvet gets thrown off the bus (help from the bus driver who FINALLY took notice) and we informs us to ride the other bus (that just pulled up) because he needs to sit there for a while and call this in.

Meanwhile, Velvet gets back on the bus, honks the horn a bunch, pushes a bunch of buttons at the control deck, then jumps off. Demands a refund. Grabs an old lady’s groceries and throws them into the bus (breaking all her eggs). Grabs a girl’s cell phone and throws it to the ground, storms infront of the bus and knocks all the bikes off. Runs/stumbles infront of traffic, trying to hail a cab (he doesn’t have money for one). A BMW stops infront of him (because Velvet is in the middle of Santa Monica blvd). Velvet rips off what is left of his pants and starts “waxing” the BMW (while gushing blood from his mouth). He then gets tired of the BMW’s horn blaring and flips it off and stumbles across the rest of the street (how he is still alive, I’m not sure). We all get on the next bus and bond for the remaining 30 minutes and telling everyone how thankful we are that we are sane and normal.