By far the greatest feeling in the world... reaching into your back pocket to discover a deflated denim pouch with no leather anywhere to be found(I swear, i say this with not even a hint of sarcasm). You take your hand out of your pocket only to reach back in 4.5 seconds later and feel the same anguish all over again. No matter how much you think/want that money holding pouch to be there, you know its sitting neatly on your night table next to that browning banana peel you left there 2 nights ago.
So here it is.... i speak only from experience, and yes i realize that I'm a tool! I made my morningly trek to the bus stop of which i frequently utilize and by frequent i mean quite frequent, and by that i mean multiple times a day, every single day of my life. I don't have a licence nor do i really see the need for one at this juncture of my life. I say this only because i had more money when i was 10 than I've had in all of 2010..... therefore the reality of Bryan Floyd owning a vehicle in retrospect is not realistic at all. After my 1,140 second round trip from my house-to the bus stop-back to my house-back to the bus stop, i realize that I'm complete fucking idiot! I wait for another bus which will ultimately make me late for work, not a common practice for me as i like to be known as that guy who's always early.... or on time at the very least. On my now second venture to work at 5am i see the blue LED lights of the 37South in the distance, i immediately feel the anxiety for no apparent reason this time around and half-frantically check my back pocket. I check and re-check my denim ass-pouch in the same fashion that a person with obsessive compulsive disorder checks the mail box, they know that the mail is gone but are always skeptical of that flap actually delivering their paper envelope.
Back to my original point... i swear i had a somewhat insignificant point to make, or not make when the idea to write this blog popped into my simple little mind. Anyways, there i was standing at the bus doors like a loafer on a dinner date... "Ahhh, you wanna pick this one up? I forgot my wallet in the car". Not to say that I'm any better then those i speak of in my previous rant but I'm a student thus granting me the right to be shit-broke! My wallet holds no more than a layer of leather separating my maxed out credit cards from a business card of some asshole I'll never need to contact, a bus pass for the month of march and an expired pita pit punch card. Nobody told me that I'd transform into this shit-poor asshole when i enrolled in college.... Optimus Dime, Broke-a-Tron? That's right, i sometimes look in the mirror and see the fucking monopoly man with his pockets turned out. As a side note... and i know this may be slightly stereotypical but where the fuck are mustachio McMoneybags monocle and ear horn anyways? I swear he used to carry those things around with him all the time back in the day, cruisin' the boardwalk looking all suave... unless he got jumped for them outside of Baltic Avenue. I thought that college would be the high life, ballin' out of control like the kids say. I honestly thought I'd be livin' like Hef, diddling blondes and poppin' bubbly in the hot tub wearing my gold plated speedo.... sooooo not the case!!! Instead i live like the guy who sits on the corner of Queen and University stroking his pet rat but without the class. Annnnnnyways...... clearly I've forgotten what the hell it is that i even set out to say here so I'm gonna go for lunch and see if there's anything left in my chequing account. You wanna pick up the bill? I think my wallet's in my other jacket....
Peace Out, Floyd.