Nigga

Waiting for the bus yesterday. How could I forget the tattoo on the young fellow's arm? He is wearing dreadlocks, a baseball cap put backwards, a badge from the nearby offices where I too, work. But the most surprising is a tattoo visible on his forearm. The tattoo says "NIGGA". Dark tattoo with calligraphic letters.
After all the fights, after all the pain and the struggles, the demonstrations, the victories, this young kid felt the need to have his forearm saying "nigga". I resist the urge to ask him why, a decision I immediately knew I would regret.

On my way to the theater and an evening with R. I am in the bus going downtown. One man comes aboard and he is greeted by the driver with a loud "Are you mad at me? I hope you're not". The man says nothing and sit a couples of rows in front of me.
The bus driver proceed to tell loudly the story of the man. Was in her bus yesterday, and asked her to wake him up at a certain stop. He fell asleep, and she forgot all about him, the quiet passenger. She remembered only when her shift ended and she handed the wake-up duty to the next driver. When the wake-up call finally came at the stop, the 20 minute nap had turned into a 2 hour deep sleep.
The woman was afraid that the man would be upset at her for having forgotten. He was not upset, but clearly embarrassed by having his story revealed to the whole bus. He muttered some words, shrugged and went to seat at the back of the bus.