I saw a woman on the bus today who had my hair! It was a pixie cut that had grown out into loose S-shaped waves woven together like a basket. Obviously she was black, and obviously it was a wig, because this sort of freak hair doesn’t occur in nature.

When she got off, I noticed that this jerk who always steals seats from little old ladies was sitting in one of the single-person seats. I stared at the ugly cluster of moles on his neck and felt a sudden urge to ask him, “Are you developmentally disabled?” Because I really think it would help me understand him. But after Charles’s warning yesterday that I’m going to get punched one of these days, I decided not to tempt it.

And then, as I was going down the stairs into Grand Central, first an old woman was blocking the entrance while she talked on her cell phone, and then the guy in front of me on the stairs was walking waaaaaay too slowly, so I looked around him and saw that he was reading his paper as he descended.

Kill! Kill! Kill!