I was waiting for the bus even though I didn’t feel like going home right now. I never feel like going home. Except when Phoebe or D.B. wants me to be there. Then I might feel like it.
The creepy museum stalker also bites he’s nails a lot. I mean, I don’t usually mind people biting their nails but he did it in a certain type of way. He didn’t do it imperceptibly.
He did it aggressively so everyone noticed. He always stared at us or the other kids and bit his nails. What a pervert. I think he wasn’t there for the Native Americans.
Then the guy turned around and looked at me. He sort of smiled and stood up from his seat. He started walking towards me.