Okay, I can't focus and I have two if these due on Tue. for this extra English thing for extra credit. it's a second rewrite and my professor said she liked it but I need more description...which I can understand, it's supposed to be a descriptive paragraph and I'm trying to describe a place I hate, that's my dominant impression. I can't figure out where and what to add more description to. I added more but I think it still needs work.
If anyone wants to read it over and kinda give me ideas on where I can add more sensory details.
Also, if anything sounds weird, I wrote it kind of quick and since I've been looking at it for so long it's hard for me to tell what sounds weird of if I repeated anything.
I'm trying to balance it out so it's not too much on the narrative side.
Tossing Bus Seat Gum at Old perverts
If I have to sit next to that lady with her eight screaming kids on the bus again, I just might spontaneously combust. This is the thought that’s running through my mind as I wait for the over sized lady, wearing oxygen tubes and three times the size of her wheel chair, to exit the bus. As I shimmy to the left, the bus driver drops the ramp as the warning tone beeps, making my ears ring and my head throb. After waiting an unnecessarily long time for the ramp to finally drop, the woman pants as she wheels herself away and I’m able to board and slide my card. Of course the machine hates me and makes me repeat over and over again. When my card is rejected it makes a horrible screeching sound, as if it's yelling at me. The bus driver eventually snatches the card from me, groans of frustration, and tells me to “just go”. As I walk down the isle, my body starts to feel hot, I can sense everyone’s eyes dart toward me and lock on like I’m a target. I try to avoid eye contact and scan the area for an open seat, all taken except for two. The first, next to a Caucasian woman, mid 50’s, smelling like cigarettes and hauling what looks like forty grocery bags, plus a full cart of knickknacks blocking the walkway. The second, next to an old, African American man with alternating, checkerboard colored teeth, glaring at me with his cockeye. At this point, I have no choice but to either sit by the old man or stand seeing as there’s not enough space for me to squeeze between the woman and her mini garage sale. As I’m heading over to sit the bus suddenly sways, jerking me left and right. A watermelon and other round fruits roll out of the woman’s bag, forcing me to jump over like I’m in a bad Indiana Jones scene. Once I topple over the smashed remains of fruit I sit and notice this strange bodily aroma, wafting through the air. It smells like a mixture of urine and dust, and I can feel it seeping into my skin, through my pores . I plug my nose and try to focus on the scenery zipping by through the window, searching for landmarks to determine how much longer to my stop. Looking out the window, I notice there's an old fossilized bee sitting in the crevice between the glass and the rim. It makes me wonder how long it took before the poor thing to finally gave up, realizing there was no escape. I couldn't imagine being on the bus any longer than a few minutes, otherwise I'd probably end up just as the bee. I’m stuck sitting in a seat parallel to the window which makes things extremely awkward, since there’s no other direction to look but straight ahead at the person in front of me. As a result I have to uncomfortably turn my head toward a gap in a window somewhere between two heads. Once I’m able to see a quick glimpse of my street flash by, I rush to press the yellow, electronic tape behind me to signal for stop. I'm too far from the tape, so I eagerly try to get attention of the boy next to me. He’s hunched over with earphones, stroking his hair, and bobbing his head to blasting music. After calling out to him numerous times, I frantically jab him, worried the driver will skip my stop. As soon as he reaches for the button, I shoot up from my seat but notice something gripping my bottom. A nice, large piece of freshly chewed bubble gum stretches from the jeans. I try to rip myself free, but all the stringy, sweet gooiness engulfs my hand. I eventually give up letting the gum stretch as I exit until it thins. I approach the door , eager to leave and as I’m exiting, they close on me halfway out. I angrily grunt while socking the rubbery trap open in rage. They sling behind me and close like a mechanical clam as I proceed to stomp my way home. I've come to realize that he bus is probably the most public, of public places, maybe far too public for me.I can’t wait until I am able to sit in the privacy of my own vehicle and bathe in it’s radiant warm glow.
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