Suzy Says

The following is a public service announcement, brought to you by Miss Suzy:

If you ever see a car ahead of you with Colorado license plates 651 BZZ, do yourself a favor and hit the gas. Pedal to the metal! Pass him with the speed of Superman, or fleeting youth! I’m begging you! If you don’t, you will have to gaze at his unappealing ass until one of you reaches your destination or commits suicide or murder (choose the appropriate crime).

My good and kind sister Beth drove me to Santa Rosa to catch the bus back to the city. OK, she also had to exchange her rental car in Santa Rosa, but still. She got my portion of niceness as well as her own, and is a better driver. She also had to put up with me expressing my feelings about Mr. Colorado, who stubbornly refused to let us pass him for 65 interminable miles. I tried to convince her to honk at him, to bring to his attention the error of his ways in ignoring not only the turnouts (the road was two lanes, so to pass, someone has to get outta the way), but the signs stating that the State of California orders you to use the turnouts and has provided them for this very purpose.

However, Beth felt this was rude and unnecessary, despite having a Suzy right next to her who was incandescent with impotent rage (I think we can all agree that’s the worst kind) and yelling things like, “651 BZZ, buzz off!” accompanied with illustrative hand gestures. Why she was more concerned about consequences from someone who was in a whole other car and apparently oblivious to anything going on in the outside world than an enraged sister only inches away, I do not know. Anyway, we and our fellow unfortunate travellers were a convoy of misery right up until the end of the road. Unbelievable. Oh, and did I mention that just for fun, wherever we could pass him, he speeded up just enough that we couldn’t?

I’m telling you, if you see him, get away as fast as you can. You have been warned.

On the bus, I was entertained by:

1. The couple sitting ahead of me. Whatever the girl said, the guy responded with “For real.” Now, “for real” can apparently be a question, agreement with a previous statement, or an expression of surprise. For real. Examples:

   “That girl ain’t no damn good. I don’t know why your brother is still going out with her.”
   “For real.” (Resigned to brother’s bad taste in girlfriends)

   “So I stole his car, drained all the gas out of it, an’ left the keys in the ignition. Then I tol’ him where to get it. He didn’t mess with me no more.”
   “For real?” (Questioning; possibly reflecting that bad taste in girlfriends may run in the family)

   “You got that class on Fridays, right?”
   “For real.” (Agreement; should be taking a class in how to pick a girlfriend)

2. Two guys comparing their sentences at San Quentin (for real!!!) and exchanging tips on how to pass drug tests while still taking drugs. One of the guys had finished an eight year sentence two days earlier; the other had been out for a while. They compared personalities of the guards, including one called Butter Bean and another one:

   Guy One: “He a Nazi, man!”
   Guy Two (nodding vehemently): “A black Nazi!”

   Talk turned to drug testing. Guy One hadn’t had to do his yet, but Guy Two had one every week:

   Guy Two: “Here’s what I do, I take niacin and lots of B3.”
   Guy One: “B12?”
   Guy Two: “No, it’s gotta be B3. Makes you hot, your face gets all red, but it gets everything outta your system.”
   Guy One: “I heard drinking lots of water works. Or Gatorade.”
   Guy Two: “That shit don’ work. Gotta be the B3.”

For real.