Bus Characters

      I take public transportation on a daily basis.  Until I get a car and a driver’s license and can afford to pay for insurance and gas, I will continue to ride the bus or train.  I don’t mind riding the bus, but I wish certain people weren’t riding with me.  They can cause a bad—and occasionally traumatic—experience.  There are certain people, call them the Archetypes of Public Transportation.  Nine times out of ten, I ride the bus with at least one (and sometimes all) of these people.  They should just stay home and save us normal passengers the trouble.  If I were a woman of immense wealth and influence, I would buy them all cars just so they could get the hell off the buses.  Well actually, if I had money I’d just by myself a damn automobile and then I wouldn’t have to write blog posts like this.

Sidenote: I’ve been doing a lot of ranting on this site lately.  Forgive me.  I’m not like this in real life.  I mean, these are definitely my thoughts, but I’m not the angry psycho whose only purpose in life is to complain.  But I digress.  Back to my nitpicking.

Anyway, these are the bus characters I have to deal with:

1) The loud talker

Sir or Ma’am, no one wants to hear your conversation about how many child support payments your “baby’s daddy” has missed.  So please, either get off the phone, or learn to talk at a reasonable volume.  Why do you have to speak so loudly?  This is especially annoying early in the morning.  I sometimes ride the 7 a.m. bus.  Although I don’t go to sleep while in transit (because of the very real and valid fear of missing my stop and ending up in Portland) I still don’t want to hear that much gotdamn noise while it’s barely light outside.  Only when I have children will I deem tolerable the loquacious and loud.  Woe is he who hears the blabber of blatherskites.  Especially if they are of the rat persuasion; I hate when black people act a fool.  I hate when anyone acts like they were raised by Soulja Boy wolves, but it’s especially upsetting and embarrassing when one of my own reinforces stereotypes.

2) The stranger who talks to you when you’re not in the mood

Now, unlike Loud Talker, I am never upset with this person.  They mean well.  I understand that riding the bus can be boring, and maybe they just want someone to talk to.  (yes I know I just ended my sentence with a preposition.)  I always smile at people when I make eye contact with them, many times I say hello, and I always tell the bus driver thank you and have a good day/night.  To me, that’s all that needs to be said on the bus.  I don’t mind when people chat on the bus.  I chat on the bus if I’m riding with friends.  But I hate it when a stranger starts talking to me about his/her job, kids, commonly used bus routes, sex life, etc.  I’m a good listener, and I like meeting new people, but I’m not always in the mood for verbal exchange—especially not in the wee hours of the morn.   It’s not so bad if they’re just talking and I’m listening, though.  It’s much worse when they ask me questions about myself.  They want to know where I’m from, what I do, how old I am, etc.  I will not be surprised if someone asks for my soc. one day.

3) The troublemaker

Calm down.  No one is trying to fight you on this bus (or at whatever stop you get off).  Chill out.  I hate when people make threats or act disorderly.  I just shake my head and get ready to press “Call” on my cell phone after having pressed 911 at the cantankerous jobbernowl.

4) The lost person who asks the driver for directions

This one makes me a big hypocrite.  I have been this person before, though only a couple times in my life (when I lived in Chicago this past summer and when I moved to Seattle).  I try to never ask bus drivers for directions.  The reason for this is a combination of pride, fear of the bus driver (I’d say about 30-40% of bus drivers have bad attitudes), a desire to figure things out for myself, and a realization that many bus drivers don’t want to tell me which bus I should take to southwest Seattle if their bus route is headed northeast.  They shouldn’t be expected to memorize every bus route just to tell us pathetic girls lost in the big city how to get to wherever. I sometimes ask people (non-bus drivers), but this is also rare.  That part is pride though.  But anyway, I’ve said all this and now I can finally make my main point about the Lost Person: it doesn’t bother me if the person is on the bus asking for directions, but many times, the person will ask the bus driver a series of questions while contemplating whether or not to get on the bus.  This annoys me when it starts to take a while.  A quick question exchange like, “Hi, do you go to Chinatown?” “No.” “Ok, thanks anyway.”  is fine, but usually the person is standing at the door that’s been opened for him or her and then the convo goes something like this:

Lost Girl (c’mon, it’s usually someone of my gender): Hi, um….. do you go to Chinatown?

Driver: No I don’t.

Lost Girl: Oh ok, well, do you know how I could get there from here?  I have to meet my friend there soon and I have no idea where I’m going.

Driver: Ok well if you take the 16 headed south towards downtown, then get off at blah blah blah blah blah, then transfer to blah blahbitty bleh bleh…

Lost Girl: Ok, well how do I get to 16?

Driver: [exasperated sigh] Head west on Northgate Way…

Lost Girl: West?  So should I turn right or left…?

This continues until eventually either the lost person (who is sometimes a man J) gives up, or the bus driver says, “So, are you getting on the bus, or what?”

Google maps/Google directions exist for a reason.  Avail yourself of these resources.

5) The smelly person

Another example of a person I can’t be mad at.  I mean, they did nothing wrong other than offended my olfactory senses.  I’m not mad at them, but they do make riding the bus unpleasant.  I can only endure the pungent odor of ass/must/alcohol/weed/sweat/vag/feet/White Castle for so long.

Sidenote: I added White Castle to that list not because anyone around me has ever smelled like White Castle, but because I think White Castle burgers smell like something died. 

Anyway, many times it’s not their fault.  I ride the bus with some very disadvantaged groups of people.  But still, I can empathize with them while still wanting to vomit.  If I’m around someone on the bus and I’d rather smell Beyonce’s Heat perfume (which is awful) than eau de passenger, then maybe he/she needs a shower.  We've all had our funky moments though. 

The culprit

~So, readers, there are other colorful characters I’ve encountered over the years, but these are the most common ones who tend to recycle themselves in different variations throughout my Monday-Saturday trips.  Did I miss anything?~