God Has A Bright Blue Mohawk

Here I am sitting on the bus. Again. Going to my piece of shit job that doesn't pay enough. The story of everyone's life. I guess I should just shut up and be grateful for a job. Namaste and shit, right? If there was a gay god up there he obviously fell asleep, or I am just too good at fucking things up to get any special favors. I couldn't even get special favors from the dishwashers at work. No one wanted me. Hell, I didn't want me either. I grabbed my duct-taped covered bag and pushed my way to the front to get off, when an idiot tried to step in front of me. The graceful beast that I am, I tripped over her leg, twisting my ankle and pushing her onto the wet floor of the bus.

"Shit. I'm so sorry. Here let me help you up." I reached to help her as I winced on my ankle.

"Don't worry about it." She brushed herself off.

Lord, she was beautiful. She had a mohawk that was dyed bright blue and tattoos that covered everything I could see. Of course she didn't want my help. What was I thinking? I limped off the bus and sat down on the first bench I saw. As I watched her walk away, hoping she would look back, I rubbed my ankle. The kitchen was going to be awful tonight. Never forget your day can get worse. And that's when she turned around...