I’ve been using the bus line of our fine Metro Transit system lately due to the Death Star being out of commission and am quickly learning that each and every ride is an adventure in some way, shape or form. I haven’t been on the bus in years, so wasn’t sure what to expect.
I hopped on Monday morning for my first ride and everyone looked crabby and miserable. Understood. The only seat open for me to take was next to a cute old lady. No big deal, right? Not to me at least. I plopped down next to her and she moved as far away from me on the bench as possible, pressed hard against the wall of the bus and nervously twiddling her thumbs. I know I’m no Bob Eubanks, but gee wiz, settle the Hell down. I’m not going to take your dang purse. It’s not just old lady, but it seems everyone on the bus has comfort zone issues. You sit next to them and they scoot over like you just rolled in a pile of rotten grass and have a big booger hanging out of your schnoz.
Maybe Metro Transit should look into dark tinted glass Jetsons-style pods that lower over the seats so no one has to touch, breathe, or even see one another. I dunno. Personally, I’m able to accept the fact that somebody’s jacket may touch mine by accident while sitting shotgun and traveling from point A to point B on the bus. If there’s some sort of bacteria on it, so be it, but I ain’t ne’er heard of anyone getting Staff Infection or AIDS from such circumstances.
Yesterday a girl got on without paying the fare and sat down. Bus driver lady got on the horn and politely mentioned “You need to pay when you get on the bus, ma’am.” Girlfriend gets up all sassyfrass and shit, walks up, scolds the driver for accusing her of trying to get a free ride, slams her change in the change thingy, and returns to her seat still mumbling. She then called her friend on her smell phone and rambled on for 5 minutes about how the bus driver wrongfully accused her, made an announcement over the intercom, etc., and might I add she was not using her inside voice.
This morning I had Mr. Mumblefuck for a driver. Every car that passed the bus was “fuckin’-this fuckin’ that” – I counted about 7-8 effenheimers sneaking out of his orange bearded face during my 4 mile ride. I was getting off the bus to go to work and a gentleman with a bicycle was approaching the vehicle with the intent of placing his bike on the bike rack of the bus so he could hop on and catch a ride. Mr. Mumblefuck uttered a “aaaaaaaah fuckin’ bicycle!” under his breath and off I went to work. Love you too, Captain!
I think I’m going to ride the bus more often. It’s really a pleasant and refreshing reminder of how fun it is to get out and mingle with my fellow warm, receptive bus riding members of the Minneapplesauce area.
Tomorrow, I intend on initiating a change that will undoubtedly make our Metro Transit system a better place to ride. How, you ask? For starters, I’m going to dress up like Richard Simmons and make sure I start everyone’s morning off with a nice sweaty hug. I might get some glitter on their coats, but hey, it just might brighten their day. The next morning, I’m planning on bringing my accordion on board to crank out a polka or two and try to have a nice 6:20am singalong with everyone.
And I quote Clark Griswald: “We’re all gonna have so much fucking fun we’ll need plastic surgery to remove our goddamn smiles. You’ll be whistling ‘Zippety Doo-Dah’ out of your assholes!”
Hope to see you on the bus!