William clenched his fists tightly as the hiss of bus doors opening echoed in his ears.
“You’re two minutes and fourteen seconds late,” he said to the bus driver.
The driver grunted.
“Do you not have an apology for me? For all you know, I could have somewhere important to be. I could be the ambassador to France. I could have someone to meet.”
“The ambassador to France wouldn’t take the bus,” the bus driver answered plainly, turning to face William. His weary face told a story of a fourteen hour shift and bare minimum wage. William ignored this.
“Well,” William said, standing up straight and brushing the crumbs off of his wrinkled shirt, “I am the ambassador to France. And I’ll make sure the UN hears about this.”
“...Okay. I can’t start the bus until everyone gets on, and you’re holding up the line.”
“You insult me again! By God, I’ll have your supervisor on the phone and you’ll be fired faster than you can say ‘arr revyer.’”
“I think you mean ‘au revoir.’ I’m gonna need you to get moving now. Line’s just getting longer.”
William rolled his eyes and begrudgingly took his seat, flicking his bus fare of two quarters onto the ground as he went. 
“Incompetence is the death to our society!” William called out from his seat as the bus lurched forward, startling the woman sitting across from him. At the next stop, she moved, clutching her purse.
“I was just thinking out loud,” he now thought, instead of explaining himself to the poor businesswoman who gingerly sat aisles away, still tightly gripping her purse and swearing off the bus forever. He didn’t care about the worried look that passed over the woman’s face when he shifted in his seat. He cared that there appeared to be an obscenity written on the back of the seat in front of him, and that this may be grounds for firing this bus driver because he clearly isn’t monitoring what people are writing on the back of the seats.
William folded and unfolded the “Help Wanted” sign he had picked up just last week. He tried to ignore the fact that the font was Helvetica of all fonts as he checked his watch one more time.
“If I’m late, I swear to God…” he muttered to himself. Or at least to him it was muttering. To most people, it would be considered a rather a raspy whisper spoken at normal volume.
The businesswoman now tapped the “stop” button three times in a row and tripped as she tried to walk as briskly as humanly possible to the front of the bus.
“Figures!” William screamed after her.
The whole way to work, she debated calling her mom, the police, or her therapist. She settled on none of the above. “He’s just a looney,” she tried to laugh to herself as she brushed her hand over the pepper spray in her pocket. She checked over her shoulder to make sure the bus was gone. When she locked eyes with William and he sneered, she decided it was time to go home for the day.
The bus screeched to a halt at William’s stop, and he got off, turning around to give the driver an indignant look, but tripping halfway through. He landed in an awkward position, and as the bus driver laughed to himself, William began plotting a way to buy the entire bus company.
“I’ll start from the ground up,” he walked across the littered sidewalk, avoiding large cracks and wads of gum, “I’ll be the janitor of the bus company. Wow them with my mopping skills. Get promoted. Become a bus driver. The fastest driver they’ve ever seen. Wow them again. Get promoted. Wow them with my management skills, and so on and so on until I can look that imbecile in the face and tell him he’s fired.”
William cackled to himself in a startling way; the birds nearby flew away, and a man repositioned himself to stand in front of his daughter as they passed William by.
“Actually,” William thought, after having had a good laugh, “buses are too tacky anyway. It’s probably not worth the trouble of even attempting to be a janitor for them. I wouldn’t stoop so low--”
“Welcome to Chili’s, how may I help you?” asked a young woman interrupting William’s thoughts.
He clenched his teeth, trying to not be annoyed at the ridiculous smile on her face.
“I’m here to interview for the ‘host’ job. You’ll find I could be quite apt at this job. I am very smart (I could’ve been top of my class at Harvard if I had attended Harvard), I have great hand-eye coordination, and I can be very polite when asked to be,” William said, c***ily adjusting his beige tie.
“Oh. That’s nice. I’m not the one that’s supposed to be interviewing people, but since no one else showed up…  I guess you’re hired? I’ll go check with my manager, though.”
“Figures!” William yelled again, this time happily instead of menacingly. However, it still startled the young woman and caused a waitress to drop her tray.
He was moving up in the world. “My first job,” he thought, “Chili’s…  a humble beginning for a genius. My biographer will probably stop by here in five years and all of these people will be scrambling to say they were my best friend.” He laughed to himself, “I can’t wait.”