Hello all,
Howard Homecoming, for those of you that don’t know, is an annual tradition for the DC area. It is here that black folk from far and wide come to celebrate this institution. Regardless if they go there, or know anyone who attends the school, for that matter. Donned in Howard attire, and eating the same sorts of food year after year, Homecoming is a pleasant time to fraternize and bond with your fellow Africans. While at the same time, spending hundreds in order to look better than your new friends….and old friends. Not that this is something I’ve ever done. I haven’t. But it looks fun.
So, as a recent Howard University grad, I felt that I had to go to Homecoming this year. I mean, it was a necessity. Which is not at all why I left class early Friday afternoon. Those two facts are not related…
Anyway, I must admit, from the moment I got on the bus early late Friday afternoon, things got interesting. I mean…really interesting. First off, the bus was late. By 15-20 minutes. And then, as I sank into the seat directly behind the bus driver, I congratulated myself for being in this position, for it meant that I would have a seat to myself, and just the soft drone of the bus’ motor to lull me to sleep….Wrong. Sooo wrong. As soon as I saw the driver, I knew. Somethin was up. He loped over to me, and, reaching over my leg, commenced to feel on the wall of the bus.
“What the hell are you doing!” I screamed at him in my head.
“What…” I said to him out loud.
“Oh..umm, is there an outlet over there?’ he asked, as his hand suddenly found itself resting on my thigh.
“Aghhh!!” I screamed in my head.
“No, the outlet is above my head,” I said out loud, while squirming away from his hand, and fighting back the urge to regurgitate.
“Oh, well, um” his hand moved off my thigh. “Can you try it?’
I stared at him in complete disbelief as somehow my hand put my cell phone charger in the outlet. He went to go assume his seat and as he farted his way to DC (yes farted, he even had to crack open the window) I texted and stewed in my anger at what had just happened. I felt that he had a one-up on me, that my now molested thigh deserved justice. I reached for a pen and, finding none there, saw an old lady sidle up to his window, only for him to shsh her off. I couldn’t even get a pen! I vowed revenge, and am now seeking it through this blog entry. Not only did this man completely denigrate my thigh, but, because of his awesome driving skills, we reached DC in 6 hours. A drive that should’ve taken 4. So….as excited as I was for the best part of Homecoming, I missed it. Because of some predatory thigh feeler.
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