Tuesday, April 17. Like everyone else in the country, I am sad about the recent tragic events at Virginia Tech. Things, it seems, have gotten pretty bad in the world. Jesus, come back.

I have found myself weeping along with NPR and the Washington Post, or just tearing up while waiting for the light to change. Maybe the woman on the bus felt the same way.

I was on the bus this morning, en route to the Supreme Court, of all places. There weren’t many people on the bus, then it was just me, the bus driver and one other woman. The woman was griping about her bus transfer and singing to herself (with a very good singing voice!).

“Cry, cry, cry,

Cry your eyeballs out.

The more you cry,

The less you pee.”

She cracked up at her own wit. Not seeing a lot of support from me for another verse of the song, she went to the front of the bus to dispute her bus transfer with the driver. It was a standard transfer that would give her free entree for any bus within the next two hours. But singing woman argued the standard should be a three-hour transfer, because what if, for instance, she had to take a bus across DC, then up to Silver Spring, then over to Gaithersburg, then back to DC? Surely that would take longer than two hours.
The bus driver was unimpressed. So she sang to him:

“Cry, cry, cry.

Cry your eyeballs out.

The more you cry,

The less you pee.”

“That’s an original composition,” she said. (and here we thought it was a new Ashlee Simpson tune) “I just wrote it right here.”

She then departed the bus. (“There’s always a crazy one,” the bus driver told me.) But her song stayed with me. It was a catchy little tune, to be sure. And its utter goofiness made me snicker all day — a great comfort on a day when I really do just want to cry my eyeballs out.

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