VIRB

So, like...oh my God. On "da bus" this morning, I encountered a most interesting group of young women, and overheard an absolutely fascinating conversation about sociology, interpersonal relationships, drug usage, and sexuality amongst our society's youth.

I should introduce the cast of characters for you.

Big, loud, stoned gurl:

Big, loud, stoned gurl is the unconfirmed leader of the posse. She is brash, and "ain't scared of anybody who ain't anybody". She relies on her large weight and loud vocal timbre to control her peeps.

Small, high-voiced, stoned girl:

Small, high-voiced, stoned gurl serves as the main sidekick to Big, loud stoned girl. Small, high-voiced stoned gurl's main purpose is to confirm or clarify any statements made by Big, loud, stoned gurl.

Too stoned to say anything gurl:

Too stoned to say anything gurl, is far too stoned to say anything, she prefers to nod, and stare at her reflection in the window.

Can't stop giggling gurl:

Can't stop giggling gurl is young and energetic. She is blessed with an infectious laugh and a remarkably healthy sense of humor.

Terrified, middle-aged, corporate man:

Terrified, middle-aged, corporate man probably thought this was going to be just another dull bus ride to work. Terrified, middle aged corporate man sat in the back of the bus without knowing that he was going to be surrounded by several bad-gurls. Stoned, bad-gurls. Stoned, bad-gurls who ain't afraid of anybody who ain't anybody.

Ian:

Your humble narrator.

When I boarded the bus this morning, the gurls were already seated and had called their meeting to order. The venue was the number 74 bus headed to the Seattle Center from the University District via Fremont. It should be noted for the sake of fairness, that we as a community should be grateful to the gurls for their complete transparency and willingness to open their meeting to the public. Perhaps they had intended for all of us to open some kind of dialogue concerning these issues, and maybe work out some of the problems on the way to work, or to score some powder (whichever the case may be).

The gurls' first point of business was to make drum-like noises and bark like seals. Small, high-voiced, stoned girl provided a rhythmic backdrop to Can't stop giggling gurl's high-pitched sonic barking. It's difficult to transcribe the rhythm, but I will make an attempt here:

boo, boo, cha-cha boo boo cha-cha. Other than the shift in syllables she sounded exactly like a broken metronome. She sped up and slowed down, occasionally stopped, false-started and stopped again. After several attempts, she left out the last cha and decided to instead to rework her composition as a waltz. This seemed a little easier, though my trained ear did hear a few minor flaws and rhythmic hiccups. After she had something mildly steady going, Big, loud Stoned Girl joined in with an impromptu burst of artistic inspiration.

Says Big, loud, stoned-girl:

"Alright, yo, yo, yo ,yo yo, yo , yo , yo , yo , yo. Uh huh. Unh-huh. Gurls. Uh-huh."

Names like Emily.
Call me E.
Got no Family.
Except for Me.

(Oh, I should note at this point, that despite the change in time signature and tempo Can't stop giggling gurl has only managed to stop her seal barks long enough to giggle uncontrollably.)

Big, loud, stoned gurl continues:

"I like to smoke weed."
"You know getting all high."
"Cause I like to smoke weed."
"It makes me all high."
"My ma, says don't smoke weed."
"But, I don't care because I'm high."
"I'm gonna smoke weed."
"Until I die!"

"And ACCCIIIIDD" says Can't stop giggling gurl. After which, she proceeds to giggle hysterically for several minutes.

I couldn't help but really appreciate the subtle and minimalist contribution to the whole venture that Too stoned to say anything gurl made. She would occasionally nod her head to the beat, but mostly just sat staring at her reflection in the window and drawing the outline of her face with her preposterously greasy fingers.

Terrified, middle-aged, corporate man had a similar role in the production; he shifted uncomfortably in his seat a lot. (It was unconfirmed at the time of this writing whether his involvement was intentional or not).

Now that the gurls had everybody's completely undivided attention, it seemed a good time to start the meeting.

The second order of business was to discuss the possible smack-down of a gurl named Hillary.

"That bitch Hillary is gonna get smack-downed," said Big, loud stoned gurl.

"Oh, yeah, did you hear that?" chimed Small, high-voiced stoned gurl.

We did hear that, but we assumed the question was rhetorical and remained silent and still.

Can't stop giggling gurl giggled, and asked:
"You really gonna smack her down?"

"Fuck, yeah." Said Big, loud stoned gurl. "That bitch was like hanging on my fucking man." "I was like, unh uh, get off my fucking man. She was like, he ain't your fucking man. And I was like, fuck you bitch, I fucked him last-night."
Can't stop giggling gurl giggled. "For sure, for sure." She said between laughs.
"Did you hear that?" Said small, high-voiced stoned gurl.

Again, we had heard that, but declined to comment.

"You ain't scared is you?" asked Small, high-voiced stoned gurl.

"Shit." "You tripping?" asked Big, loud stoned gurl. "I ain't scared of anybody who ain't anybody."

"Yeah, yeah," Said Small, high-voiced, stoned gurl.
"Did you hear that?" This time there was no pause for response. "She ain't scared of anybody who ain't anybody."

Can't stop giggling gurl, giggled.

Too stoned to say anything gurl began rocking back and forth.

Terrified, middle-aged, corporate man sighed audibly but such a subtle gesture was completely unnoticed by the gurls.

The third order of business was to debate whether it was ethical or prudent to inhale a mild narcotic on a bus.

Big, loud, stoned girl pulled out a glass pipe filled with Marijuana and ash. "Maybe, I'll hit this shit right here." she postulated.

I was praying to God that she would make such a decision. This way, there would be just cause for all of us to forcibly remove her from the bus.

Terrified, middle-aged, corporate man looked utterly petrified as if, he might somehow be roped in with this group in the event of an illegal hit of cannabis on an over-rated mode of public transportation.

"Nah, fuck that, I'm not getting these assholes high off my shit." said Big, loud stoned gurl much to my disappointment and to the great relief of everyone else on board.

"You hear that?" asked Small, high-voiced gurl.

Can't stop giggling gurl, just giggled, and added:
"Maybe you should get these assholes high, then they would know what's up."

This struck me as rather amusing, since it would have been tragically obvious to an unbiased third-party that of the two groups present, one was clearly more aware of what was..."up" than the other.

The fourth order of business was to discuss possible refreshments for the board members.

"I want some fucking McDonalds." said Big, loud stoned gurl.
"Fuck yeah, McDonalds." agreed Small, high-voiced gurl."

Can't stop giggling gurl, giggled and added "I like hash browns."

"Fuck, yeah," said Big, loud stoned gurl. I'm gonna get me two sausage egg mcgriddles and one of them hash browns and I'm all good.

"I heard that." said Small, high-voiced gurl.

I would have to assume that this is the first time in say, ten years, that I've been so incredibly grateful for the omnipresence of McDonalds. Sure enough, the next stop boasted a pair of plastic golden (yellow) arches.

The bus came to a halt, and with it so did the giggling. Big, loud, stoned gurl adjourned the meeting with a "Fuck these people."

She pulled out her pipe, stepped off the bus and took a long drag as soon as she left the boundaries of "on a bus." She coughed it up and lit a cigarette. Small high-voiced gurl didn't ask, but we had heard that too. She also stepped off the bus, followed by Can't stop giggling gurl, who did look at all of us and giggle, and Too stoned to say anything gurl who left without saying anything. I watched them through the greasy imprint of Too stoned to say anything gurls' face as they disappeared inside McDonalds.

I glanced across the aisle at Terrified, middle-aged, corporate man who just shook his head at me and said, "Jesus Christ."

I just shook my head, and for the seventieth time that day the 74 bus was filled with the sound of laughter. This time, it was mine.