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Late Night RiTA Rant

Dear RiTA,

Hi. You may recognize me as the impeccably dressed gentleman your bus driver seems to enjoy tormenting each and every morning. Maybe you could do something about one of the transit stops in my neighborhood? Yeah, the one conveniently located just under a traffic light and on the highway.

I understand my waist size may factor into this issue. Perhaps your driver simply doesn't see me? After all, not unlike Ms. Ritchie, I am am rather thin; I do stand behind the telephone pole located at the RTA stop in question. For safety reasons, mind you. But in my defense, I do wear sunglasses large enough to be seen from space.

Why, just this very morning I was once again abruptly brought back from my morning daydreams by the scintillating sound of screeching tires on the wet pavement. I looked up to see my driver glaring at me from an open door as the bus continued by for just a few more feet before completely, and rather suddenly, coming to a complete stop.

I apologize to the young man in the pin striped suit. The woman two rows ahead (and in the seat on the left) seemed to enjoy your breakfast.

And what didn't make it into her mouth looked lovely with her lilac eyeshadow.

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