BUSSING MY ASS TO FUEL CITY!

by Abe Golam

"He is back on the bus. He needs to go into town to pick up some foodfuel to help motorize his simuflesh into the swollen Net. Since his stop is the furthest point atop the mountain in the bus route as the bus makes its loop, he is the first one to board as it descends into the waiting world of Cyburbia USA. Gradually, the bus begins to pick up other passengers. They are all women. Each woman who enters the bus becomes part of an uncontrollable urge he has to reinvent his life for himself. The first woman is a college student (or so he dreams). She smiles at him and he thinks he would like to take her to the alternative rock concert. At the alternative rock concert he would give her a drug that would make her horny and sleepy and then he'd take her home and he would subtly massage her soul with a flood of recently excavated texts he designed in his secret laboratory. As the drugs wore off and the texts settled in, he would take out his synchronized stylus and begin the session...The second woman to enter the bus was older and looked Central American. Her dark brownish-red skin was coated in a banana-scented skin lotion that she would rub up against his time-worn body while whispering hot criminal words about how she needed to commute a sentence with him before she became completely disengaged and started having children. Her eyes were big and almost black and as he traveled into their depths looking for a sign of progressive recovery that refused to exist, he became disenchanted and his eyes ventured over to the young teenager who had since boarded and was coming over to him wearing practically nothing except a bikini top and tong-stripped bottom. She was wearing sandals and her toenails were painted dark red and she immediately put her hand on his leg and told him he was the coolest and that she recognized his face from the halo-screen projection in her bathroom and that if he wanted to he could drive her car and he asked why she wasn't driving her car now and she said it was because she had failed her test and had not the courage to either take it again or drive it illegally and that besides he was much better suited for such romantic pursuits and he asked what do you mean by romantic pursuits? She just smiled and then said she had to go and was the first one off the bus. Then the latinamericanwoman smiled and she too got off the bus. The college woman was so caught up in her textbook that she almost missed her stop and she didn't even look at him as she quickly de-bussed at the very next stop. The bus driver, he now realized, was more beautiful than any of the other passengers he was fantasizing about. She wore a horrible green uniform with polyester slacks that made her look like a man and when, at the temporary pit stop outside the mall, she bent over to pick up some trash, he got a hard-on the size of Louisiana. 'Crawdaddy's comin' home,' he muttered to himself, and shucked his pink-white meat out into the steaming pot of hot sauce that he felt himself being transported in..."