Chalk It Up To Karma

I have a story about karma. Some people argue that when you have something wrong done to you, and that person who wronged you eventually gets wronged, that is what most people consider the idea of karma.

It is not the spiritual definition that some adopted, but in any case, this is how karma is seen. Now let me preface the story with a description of the situation.

On Thursday, I parked my car in the overflow lot. I had been having a bad day — A late night before and an early morning, full of "You forgot to" statements. I was greeted with either, "You forgot to ..." or "Are you alright." Most likely from the raccoon eyes and the half-dead look.

So to say the least, I was not in a good mood and was just looking to get back to my car, so I could go home.

I was walking from the journalism building (the center of campus) to the bus stop, which happens to be at the southern most point of campus. It was hot for an October day, somewhere between 80-90 degrees.

As I round the last building that separates me from the bus stop, I see the bus almost full of people and looking like it is ready to go. So, in no mood to run, I increase my walking pace and head toward the bus. As I pass the door of the Science building, it swings open and a woman wearing heels and on her cellphone runs my feet over and slammed my ankle with her rolling backpack.

I apologize to her even though it wasn't my fault, hoping that she would apologize for the hit-and-run. Instead she bursts out, "Damn right your sorry!," then proceeds to tell the person she was talking to on the phone that, "Some damn idiot walked right into me."

I was furious, I had what seemed to be a welt forming on my ankle and this b*tch was telling me that I did her wrong in some way? I felt like calling her every dirty name in the book, or throwing her piece of sh*t rolling backpack under a bus, but I kept my cool.

Because her sideswiping me, we both did not make the bus. And I sat waiting for the next one while she bitched and complained to the person on the phone with her that I was the cause of her day being hell. A football player has seen what had happened and was talking with me about it, both of us laughing at the situation and, even though painfully, the bruise on my ankle, now somewhat purple.

So, the next bus came and she got on the bus and I did not. There was no way in hell I was going to get on there and risk sitting in an ear shot of her. I would have snapped her tiny little, blond-haired head off. Not like it would be difficult, since there was probably no brain in there.

Besides, I was too busy laughing because she got on the wrong bus ... And there karma for you folks. This woman was in such a rush to get back to her car, that she got on the long route. The one that goes all the way around campus from that entry point, before going to the parking lot. The one that takes an extra 45 minutes to get where she was intending on going.

Had she not been complaining so much to her friend on the phone about what she claimed I did, she might have noticed two things. One being that the red sign on the bus said long route, and that the majority of people standing around the bus station were not boarding with her.

My ankle is fine, just took a half hour of an ice pack to make the swelling go away. Probably in less time than it took miss drive by the time to finally get back to her car. In the words of a famous college newspaper designer. "Dumb b*tch!"