No More Bus

I cannot take riding the bus anymore.

What’s wrong with me? I’m supposed to be a defender of the common man, righter of wrongs, etc., yet I can’t stand to spend thirty minutes riding public transportation with my fellow Evergreen City citizens? Am I that much of a misanthrope? Am I that uptight?

Well, yes. When you’re fellow citizens smell like ass, or listen to their headphones at insane volumes, or talk really loudly to their unemployed friends or parole officers, or if they wear stupid buttons all over their filthy overcoats that say shit like “Rub my belly for good luck” or some shit – well, if I’m a misanthrope because I’d rather drive to work than put up with that, then so be it.

I bet Silver Striker or The Teutonic Knight don’t bitch about the people they’re sworn to protect. Not on blogs, anyway.

The whole bus experience makes me wonder why I do the hero thing in the first place. Maybe I just like to kick villains in the head. I mean, I’ve always thought of myself as more of a “protect the innocent” hero rather than a “punish the guilty” hero. But now I’m not so sure. Maybe I’m more Batman (punish) than I am Spider-Man (protect). Maybe it’s not healthy comparing myself to comic book characters. The concept of altruistic revenge rears its ugly head.

I think I’ll rent a car so I’m not forced to think about this anymore.