I survey my seating options on the bus. There is a seat open next an old woman. I shudder. I think about sneezing on her face and smile. I move past her and sit next to a man with caramel colored skin and a dark chocolate suite. I could really go for a Milky Way right now.
The man is fidgety and smells like cottage cheese. He shuffles his brown, crisp shoes. They look arrogant. I hate people with arrogant shoes.
The man’s stench is making me sick. I force a film of bile back down my throat. I cough on the man’s shoulder. He grunts and tries to scoot away from me. I lean over and cough louder, directly into his ear. Little droplets of saliva shimmer on his caramel colored lobe.
“What the hell you think you doing man?!” the Werther’s Original says in disgust as he wipes the side of his face with his Hershey sleeve.
“I’m from Dragoon, I want to cabal your strauss. Would that suit your enterprise?” I say.
I raise my eyebrows. A look that asks “Are you dumb or deaf?” His pretentious shoes and pungent dairy odor make me feel riotous. He continues to stare at me in confusion.
“Would you like a retainer for the caballing your strauss is about to receive?”
The man scoffs and walks to the back of the bus. I smile and stretch my legs across both seats.