Last night various loved ones offered me a ride to work since we had end of the world storm conditions. I responded that walking was safer than driving in heavy rain, and went out into the sorely needed downpour. I arrived at the bus stop during a lull in the storm to the music of many frogs and crickets. I enjoy the frog song—about the closest thing I get to nature in this festering pit. I looked down at the base of the light pole to see if there was a lose rock in case I required it and saw a large frog there, like the one I captured for my son down at the park when he was five. The frog had changed its color to match the concrete and steel it was sandwiched between.

The bus came early and I was intrigued to find it at normal capacity, either in spite of or because of the bad weather. Understand that hood rats are not all weather creatures. In terms of habitat range the Norway rat has it on them.

As I boarded I noticed that something was amiss, a gold grilled thug who had been rapping out load to his YouTube public was threatening the bus driver, who seemed well capable of besting the thug. Which, it turned out, was the idea. The thug kept calling the driver “nigger” and daring him to hit him, reading the lead in to his documentary titled, “Crazy MTA driver attacks gold tooth nice guy. The driver was telling him that if he did not shut up he would call the MTA police, to which we men all laughed, as the MTA cops are still trying to borrow cruisers from the real cops after getting theirs destroyed in the riots.

The regular working women were finally back on the bus, as well as some teen age boys and a couple of working guys. But Gold Tooth Nice Guy knows he has the hammer—knows he will not be arrested, that the cops have no confidence that the government will stand behind them, and the driver has real worries that they will even show up.

The 50 year old lady across from me asked the driver not to call the police. She and the 30 year old women with her were shaking visibly, afraid they would be caught in another riot.

These are all blacks. Only Mexican Mamma and I are not black.

The senior female then looked to me like I was Moses or Robert E. Lee, and asked me to stop the thug from “starting a mess up in here.”

I looked at her and broke out into hysterical laughter.

She now regarded me with horror, as if she were the woman in Invasion of the Body Snatchers who finally located her protector [Donald Sutherland , I think] only to find out he was now an alien as well. She kept fixing me with that, “Oh My Gawd, the white people have gone crazy too” look that I’ve been getting used to since the riots.

A young pregnant woman got on and the older women kept her from going near the thug, declaring that it had been a mistake to come out. It is astonishing how this thug depressed and panicked so many of the passengers, where they would have laughed at him in the past. Now, the people of Baltimore know that men such as this, if they get physical, will not be stopped by the police, and that the police will no longer protect citizens from the sacred media thugs. This is the biggest change in the tenor of life in Baltimore that I have ever experienced. It is more shocking in its own way than the riots.

Eventually the thug told the driver one last time “tomorrow I’ll take your job niցցer,” and got off, chanting his thug song mightily, as I laughed silently and some giant black woman told him, “You a stupid bitch, niցցer.”

The man sitting nearest the driver said he would vouch for him, and the driver responded, “Oh, I’m good, been working this job for fourteen years, and I’m keeping it too.”

The most helpful Baltimore County cop is back on duty in the area. I did not bother asking him where he had been for the past three weeks as I suppose he was sick of hearing that. He had followed a local white trash freak vandal and burglar to the store to make sure he did not damage our property. Bubba was thanking him, then stopped, and said, “Have you thought about being a fireman?”

The officer said, “Look, if I had known what police work was going to be like I would have never gotten into it. Dealing with these kinds of people eats at you. But I have fourteen years in. I need the money, so I’m sticking it out.”

That is the cop who demonstrates the highest moral in the most aggressive precinct of the County. I can only imagine how demoralized the MTA and City cops are.