14 June 2007

It's cool. I'm losing it. A bus driver's voice is tap dancing on my very last nerve.

So there's this bus driver and he's driving me apesh*t. For some reason he's taken to announcing the stops when we get back to Brooklyn in the evening. Thing is, his voice actually drives me to the icy cliffs of teetering insanity. I swear I'm nearly at the point where I'm going to wait for the next bus if I see he's behind the wheel.

Now, I realise I may be slightly nuts and I admit I definitely pay more attention to people's voices and inflections than your average midtown commuter, but there is just something about your boys voice that has struck a nerve with me and now it won't let go; like a woodpecker peck-peck-pecking away at the fundamental cells of my soul. Hahaha. Ok, now that was good.

Remember that story back in the day about the woman who said Mary Hart's voice drove her crazy? The goddamn New England Journal of Medicine even reported that Hart's voice had actually triggered seizures in a few epileptic women. Well, I think I need to get the boys from the N.E. Journal to take the bus home with me one day.

I'll try to explain his voice as best I can:

Picture a guy sitting at the end of a bar. He's been eating stale unsalted pretzels and cocktail peanuts out of a faux-wooden bowl all goddamn day. He hasn't had anything to drink; not a single lick of anything liquid has touched his lips in hours. OK, and now imagine this man trying to speak to an audience over a crackling MTA bus microphone.

But wait, that's not all...

In fact, I've saved the absolute worst for last because for some reason he pronounces his hard D sounding T's and his Th's as if they were all F's. It's really bizarre. Someone needs to tie this guy up and drag him to a lab for some serious probing and prodding; then again, after reading this, you may think I'm the one who needs to be tied down and carted off.

So anyway, when my man says, for instance, "Seventy-Third Street", it sounds like he's saying "Sevunfree Firrd Sffreet". Now picture this gruesome pronunciation coupled with a mouth that's as dry as the goddamn Sonoran and you've got me clawing at the windows; that is, if I'm not asleep.

In fact, just relating and describing this so vividly to you now is starting to drive me nuts so I'm gonna go.

But hey, thanks for reading and taking a trip inside my mind. I hope you've enjoyed the ride. The next stop will be Bellevue which just so happens to be located on "Twenty-Sevrumfth Sffreet".

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