Jamaica, Queens

After sucking at a job interview and wasting over an hour at the Social Security Administration, I walked 15 blocks to the bus stop. I walked up Jamaica Avenue, dodging pedestrians and snow-shovelers, and stepping on the remnants of Sunday night's blizzard.
My bus stop was in front of a Baskin Robbins. A Q110 bus was parked there, and two people were talking inside. I paid no mind to it.
As I looked into the horizon for my Q31 to come, some lady started talking to me. "Just couldn't take it," she said. "Excuse me?" I replied, and she explained to me how she was kicked out of the parked Q110 when the bus driver went crazy. "Some people just can't take it, you know? This economy, not knowing where the next meal's gonna come from, you know? Just too much pressure."
She told me how she always had two jobs. Now, she had one at the Postal Office and, now that she was 65, was also going to cash in a Social Security check. Over three-thousand dollars in total. "I'm blessed."
Another Q110 came, and she took it. The Q31 came a few minutes later, and I took it home. The parked Q110 and its driver did not move.