bus stop

Someone drove over my bus stop.  The bus still arrived, so I guess the operators of the DC Metro bus system are smarter than that bus stop wrecker, but still....I arrived today and it was gone, replaced by various car parts, broken side mirror pieces, a mangled crosswalk sign that had been lovingly draped over a tree branch, and some metal fence parts.

Since it's Monday, I can assume that this happened over the weekend when a drunk person careening up Connecticut Avenue veered onto my street and then did not complete the veer and instead tried to visit the Russian embassy via the inside of his or her vehicle.  Or maybe it was a Russian on the run, trying desperately to get away from one of the 17 police forces at work in this tiny hamlet and crash to safety inside the embassy gates.  Either way, it clearly didn't work and my guess is that the Russian embassy is not stocked with ample staff to retrieve errant ex-pats at the time said accident occurred.

I dated an idiot one time, who liked to tell people that he wasn't drunk when he was three sheets to the wind.   Three sheets to the wind, incidentally, is a nautical phrase describing not the sails, but the ropes which secure them, being left to flap in the wind and thus throw the boat helplessly off course.  Anyway.  He was shitfaced drunk, we were in an argument and he decided in his infinite and self-righteous wisdom, to vehemently proclaim his sobriety, override my desire to walk to the train station and instead drive me there, probably with only one eye open the whole way.  As this was in his intensely trashy part of the world, chances are there were many other drunk idiots on the road and we could have all been killed, or crashed up into someone's living room.  But I digress.

To his dismay, there was no train to arrive for some hours after that and instead of just chilling out, he decided to hail a cab and send me on my way.  I kept my mouth shut at that point, since his decision making skills were on the fritz and took the c bill he offered with a smile on my face.  The cab - with generous tip - cost $55 and so I made some money on the deal, which I spent on a pair of shoes at Nordstrom Rack.

And there you have it.  Don't drive drunk, kids.