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Saturday, January 29, 2011

Bear on a bus

   I generally despise conversations with the lowers species (humans). All anyone really wants to do is talk about themselves anyway. You can see it in most people's eyes. You tell them a little gem of knowledge and their expression goes a little blank while they try to think of something that will top it. Its annoying and pretty much runs with how humans live. From my Bear's perspective it seems like everything is about competition. The guy next door has a new car, you need a newer car. The lady next door gets a lap pool, you need a bigger pool. The kid down the road gets a pony, you need a camel. Its stupid, but it is funny for me to see and reminds me of just how much farther evolved i am.
   Anyway...
   I was in Los Angeles a while back, trying really hard not to have a conversation with anyone and so, forgoing a taxi (where the worlds most insincere and boring conversations are bound to happen) I got on a bus to go to the La Luz De Jesus art gallery.
   So i got on the bus and chose a seat with nobody else in it. A minute later however, a portly (thats PC language for FAT) man got on the bus and sat next to me.
   The bus is driving along and I'm chuckling to myself about all the homeless people and kids with hankys tied around their heads when the spam sack next to me taps me on the leg. I looked at him and, though buy his pink polo shirt, crew cut, short shorts and coke bottle glasses I hadn't picked him for a metal head, he gave me the devil horns hand symbol.
   I just wanted him to fuck off so I did it back and then turned back to the window in an obvious sign of disinterest.
   A moment later he taps me on the leg again and this time he's pointing to his chin. Now I had let the fur on my chin grow somewhat in those days and had the bear equivalent of a goatee. So he liked my goatee? Couldn't really fault him for that. I did look rather dapper and sophisticated. Who wouldn't like it? So i nodded confidently and again turned back to the window. It was nice to be complimented but it didn't change the fact that i didn't want a conversation.
   A second later and he not only taps me on the leg, he places his hand squarely on my inner thigh!
   "FUCKEN WHAT!?" I growled and shoved his hand away.
   He looked perplexed, as, I am sure you have guessed, did I. He again made the heavy metal devil horns symbol.
   I returned the symbol grumbling, "Yeah heavy metal mate, whatever."
   Then he pointed to his chin again and I nodded.
   "Yeah," i grunted, "I've got a goatee. Grow your own."
   Then...as I'm sitting there staring him in that fat ugly face of his, he places his hand on my balls...square on my balls...without hitting the rim, nothing but net. A fat man's hand on my fuzzy beary testicals! WHAT THE FUCK!?!
   I brushed his hand of and was about to bite his face off when he held up a piece of paper. On the paper in small print were the words, "I am deaf."
   He again made the devil symbol, then he wrote on a small pad which he produced from his pocket. It said "I LOVE YOU." He did the devil symbol again and held up the pad.
   It dawned on me that he was using sign language and that the "devil symbol" must be sign for "I love you."
   I shook my head and waved my paws, saying "No no no no no."
   He pointed to his chin again, only this time the gesture was accompanied by a kissing sound.
   My goatee had never been the subject of that little bit of finger play. He wanted TO KISS ME! And I had been nodding, pointing to my own chin and doing the "I love you symbol".
   Shit! I had been leading on a fat gay deaf man the whole time without ever realizing it.
   So, unperturbed by my obvious aversion to being Mighty Joe Young's fag hag, he then made another play for my balls.
   I brushed his hand away and started pulling on the chord to let the bus driver know I wanted to get off. (not in that way. Get your mind out of the gutter.)
   The deaf guy is staring at me like a roast chicken dinner but the bus eventually stopped and I got up. As I climbed over him to get out of my seat I could feel his breath on my hind quarters and have never tensed my sphinkter in quite so extreme a fashion before or since.
   I was feeling dirty, abused, violated, but the most horrible bit was that as I stood by the bus' exit, waiting for it to open, I looked back to the Don Juan and saw that he had turned to the next closest person and was trying the same trick on them.
   At least before that moment I had felt special. Sure I'd felt a little sick and a tad repulsed, but I had been the one out of all the people on the bus that the weirdo had chosen for romance. Now I realise that I was the only one with a free seat beside him. I wasn't special or unique at all. I was just a bear on the road of life, alone, wandering...lost.