It. Is. Windy. 40 miles per hour. I am at the stop will a collection of strange people: a person all wrapped up in black to try and block out the wind, a girl with orange pants and pink and purple hair, and someone with an orange spiky backpack. It makes her look like an ankylosaurus. On the bus now. Across from me is a girl who clearly wishes she was a rock star. Her ensamble includes sunglasses, ripped jeans, a leather jacket, guitar necklace, and a lip ring.
Oh, dear. Central is closed. I do not know where we are now. Hmmm... this is an interesting development. I hope I don't miss my next bus. Back on Central!
On the 140 now. This dude on the phone just said, "how was my Thanksgiving? I didn't have no pilgrims to hang out with, bro!"