Hackey Sack

Everyday, I walk past the bus station on my way to work. In mid-winter, it's a gloomy place, and deserted. But not these days. Everyday when I pass the bus station, I have to maneouvre through a gaggle of hippies. And you know I hate hippies.

The hippies are waiting for the jitney to the West Coast Trail, which is a jalopy that looks uncomfortable and smelly. The hippies have their bags strewn over the sidewalk. There is sacks of granola passed around, and water from aluminum cans consumed. And they are all over the sidewalk, and look at you all moony-faced when you try to pass. It smells of wood smoke, patchouli and stale underarms. I can only imagine what the bus trip is like. Walking through that cloud of hippie-ness makes me cranky.

But this morning, I saw four hippies playing hackey sack in the parking lot. At 6 am. And from what I could tell (since I think hackey sack is stupid), one of the guys sucked and ruined the game for everyone else. Whenever I see a game going on, I have to seriously fight the urge to go over there, take the sack and toss it in a thornbush.

Then in front of the bus station, about 10 hippies were gathered in the middle of the sidewalk. When I had to pass, one hippie girl did that shuffle-to-make-it-look-like-I-moved move. The passive agressive in me hoped my purse would clock her in the back by "accident". All the while, I wanted to scream "MOVE, bitch, get out the way".

Is it people in the way who haven't got the sense god gave a goose to get out of the way that makes me mad, or hippies. Or perhaps it's a dangerous combination.

Hippie-Hatingly Yours,
xoxoSallyt