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The Bus Ride Diaries: The Social Security Office

Short story By: Barnestopper
Humor



This is a story about a trip I had to the social security office. Some of it is true, some of it is not.


Submitted:Sep 3, 2013    Reads: 163    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


The line at the social security office is a gruesome sight for my eyes to behold. While standing still in my tracks, amidst a pack of wild-men and nymphs, I look down and realize that i'm standing on a small pile of shit. Not hard, but still gooey and quickly making its way up the side of my shoe. I look around casually as to try and spot out the perpetrator of the mess but my search is useless. I see their worn faces and by the looks of them anyone of them could be equally responsible for the mess. Dirty bastards, each and every one of em'. I look down at my shoe and feel like a hypocrite. With this shit on my shoe and empty wallet in my pocket, I guess I am no better and no worse then any of these hapless shmucks. ----- -------- ------- ------ ---- ------- ------- ----- ------ ----- ----- ------ ------- ------- ------ --------- ------------ ------------- ------------ --------------- ---------- ---------------------- I start to hop my way to the closest bathroom and eventually my aching leg achieves the task. I push the bathroom door open and kick off the shit shoe. I carefully pick it up and bring it to the sink and begin to wash it. Right when the majority of the fecies is washed off I hear a stall door fly open and this noise causes me to turn its way. There stands a scrawny crack whore with long thin over-dyed haid. Mostly like she is a street whore and I am not sure If I want anything to do with her. ---- --- --- " Ohh shit I am sorry, I step in something and must have not realized I went into the ..." She interupts me mid sentence. -- ----- " Ohh sweetie its ok, its ok. Howa bout you whip out that young cock of yours and i'll suck it fo five dollars." I am taken aback by this comment. Yes, she is a street whore. But saying that who else would be better at cocksucking then a stree whore. She is staring at me impatiently when she say. " So ya wanna get it sucked on or what kid?" And to be a straight man and say you haven't sexually fantasized about being with most the women you have ever met then you would be a liar. --- ------- ----- ----- ---- --- " Hmmmm, how many dicks have you sucked today?" " Jus' two" she replies. ------ -------- ------- ------ ------- ----- ---- ---- - ----------------- -------------------- -------------------------- --------------------------- ------------------------------ -------------------- --------------- ----- ----- ----- I am quickly out the door and back in line, without recieving any oral sex. As I wait, from time to time I look back at the restroom and shiver. The street whores cave. As man after man enters and exits the bathroom I try to read their faces as to try and indicate whether or not they reicieved what I did not. This pasts the time and even though i'm sure that that guy standing behind me in the tank top got a "bj" from the street whore, I do not care because I am next in line. ---- - ------ - - -- - - - - - - - - - ----------------- --------- ---------------- -------------- ------------- ------------------- ---------------------------------------- ------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------- ------------------- -------------------------------------- The thought of getting free food from the government is washing away my previous thoughts and the idea of my criminal government having to kiss my ass for once is thrilling me beyong belief. I skip over to a counter with a tall sheet of bullet-proof glass ontop of it that reached the roof and a small fat pale lady behind it. I say hello but I get no reaction. She just stares into the emptiness that is a computer screen. I feel bad for her. Not a bad job, it probably even pays well, but I wouldn't even wish her fate on my worse enemy. The good little worker. These types are far from life when still in it and always looking for the fray of death until it is looking at them, then they long for life. Why is it that these people that do not live life to the fullest, why is it that the unknown and mysterious is always so much better than the beauty we all already have in life? It is not over there, or in the future or after death. Happiness is with me now in the social security office, with all the degenerates and street whores. I smile as big as my jaw will allow and say hello once more. She wiggles around in her chair a bit and it ruffles her dress. She straightens out the fabric and looks up at me with dis approval written all over her face. -------- ----------------- ----------- --- " what," she says plainly. " Ummm, food stapm request form please?." " One Sec.." She says and she looks back down at the computer screen again and does nothing. Nothing at all. I look behind me and see impatient faces and I wish that she would work a bit faster. She is a robot, she has been made to be this way. Her incompetence is no mistake, she has been conditioned to be useless. She snaps out of her cyborg like trance and smiles. She grabs a packet of papers that has been in plain view this entire time, hands them to me and than yells next into her intercom. --- - - - - - - - -- - - - ------------------------------ -- - - -- - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - - - -- - - ------------------------------------------------------------- - -------------------------------- I fumble away from the counter in a dazed state, feeling used and unsatisfied I make my way to a lonely corner whoms only inhabitants are a few cold chairs. I sit down and quickly fill out the packet with the honesty that is in my heart. I return the form to the fat pale woman behind the desk and she gives me a number and tells me to return to my seat and wait to be called. On my return to my lonely corner I am disappionted to see that it is no longer lonely. Two men sit there now, one is young and has on dark oakley shades and a metal mellisha shirt. The other is older and has a old dirty beard and a old ripped up pendalton Jacket on. They bicker like an old couple about something that I have no interest in but I am forced to sit down and take the verbal beating. " What up Wood." The younger one says to me. " That is not me." I reply. -- - - - - - - - -- - - " Matter of speech ya hater." He says. " ohhh." " Leave the glib little bastard alone ya idiot." The older man butts in. -- - ---- " Im only talking to him ya old fart, talkin to me like you know me, shit." Says the younger. " Ohh I know you ya little cunt, I was In your mommas old farter just the other night!" Says the older. " Your old prehistoric dick wouldn't move even if there was an earthquake, what was the last time you even felt a quiver down there?!" Says the younger. " You Fuck, Ill Show you!!!" The old man got up and unleashed his old prehistoric dick. He began trying to make himself hard as he frantically yelled at the young man. " See bitch I'm getting harder with every stroke, wait till I get to your mommas house now! hahahahah!" -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - As this man ridicules the young man and masterbates publicly the waiting room springs into anarchy. The few normals begin to scream, the wildmen begin to fight, the nymphs begin to fuck, the old man continues to " jack it" furiously and right when I think it can't get any worse the bathroom door flys open and the street whore emerges from her cave with a thick white crust all over her dress. As I run for the exit I can see a few police officers being over taken by the chaotic mob, and right here right now, I know that this is the end of society as we know it and it all started in Santa Ana at the social security office before my very eyes.





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