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The Cops Raided The Bus and All Hell Broke Lose

Yeah, I’m still taking the bus. I refuse to finance a car and as much as I hate to be reminded daily that being a loser involves living in Los Angeles without the means to prove that you are above the “little people” — I prefer to dwell within my means until I furnish the rights to my upcoming bestselling novel.

Not really. I’m just trying to set this off in a non-generic way.

Writing about the racial strife in this country is not something I imagined would become routine.

So, Freddie Gray’s killers were rewarded for their crimes.

It was concluded that since Black people are known to possess superhuman powers — there is no way these police officers could’ve bent Gray out of shape — to the point of disintegrating his spinal cord.

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Well, the price was quite high. In fact it was more than any of us anticipated.

I guess that’s the issue here. Why are we surprised every time a person of color is punished for existing while Black? This isn’t a new phenomenon that demands a level of training to get us caught up on the language of the streets.

These times are gangster!

While riding the bus back home after my mandatory physical exertion — I was awakened by loud voices and body movements. Mind you, this isn’t uncommon — but somehow the events unfolding summoned my faculties unevenly.

Once the signal was alighted — off we went.

As we departed our mandatory stop — I could hear the Young, Gifted and Black — challenge their fate. Why in the hell are y’all so involved in our movements? Like, really? Not paying our bus fare is worth the attention that should be reserved for drug dealers taking a smoke outside their headquarters in Miami?

He went on. And on. And, after about ten minutes — I was hooked.

His peeve was that the bus driver who was a Black man — set up the young and unassuming riders for failure. He willing delivered them to the jaws of their future He helped to propel their capture. Dude! What the fuck! You know what’s up. Why would you allow their arrest when you know that White cops are dying to litter the streets with the bodies of the dying.

They have to be Black. Any age will do.

The bus driver tried to evade the missiles but each launch proved more dire in it’s approach. He explained his position quite well. He has a job that he needs to hold down for at least five years. He works the route that is notorious for bad behavior and organic mayhem. He tries to warn his people about the laws. He gives them the choice to pay for their ride and then he emphasizes the benefits of obeying the law. He can’t force perfection. He can’t pay for every customer of color who claims the virus of an empty wallet.

It is imperative that we pay the fare and live another day.

The special treatment is reserved for White people with money who can continuously rob the meek and poor and literally bring this nation to a standstill — without the threat of a gun battle or civil war.

That bus ride was long and life changing.

When my stop came into focus — I was exhausted and rejuvenated.


Written by

Juggling Wordsmith. I have a lot to say!

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