Hello, my dear fellow bus riders!
What a lovely year we’re enjoying on the bus stop, no? This February, the temperature never hit the -20s, like it did last year. This March, the wind didn’t blow 60 miles per hour for a month straight. And we’re getting rain in April! Which makes everything smell so lovely, thanks to the water in the air and the blossoms on the fruit trees. This is a wonderful time of year to be riding the bus, to get to spend those few wonderful minutes outdoors every morning and evening.
We’re a smart bunch, aren’t we?
And yet…
…I do wonder sometimes.
For instance, I wonder why some of you will stand in line for the bus for 10 or 15 minutes while doing absolutely nothing else except, apparently, stare at the sky—yet the moment you’re on the bus you’ll pull out your cell phones and try to have conversations even though you already know the reception is going to be spotty as we descend the mesa. Or, at least, you should know this because you have the same exact reception problem at the same exact spot on the road every time.
Maybe you truly don’t want to talk to that person on the other end. So you strategically wait until you’re on the bus, so that you can make a show of saying, “What?… What?… I think I’m losing you… I SAID I THINK I’M LOSING—oh, can you hear me now? Yeah, I’m on the bus. ON THE BUS. What? Hello?”
Perhaps you do this out of a misguided sense of courtesy. If that’s the case, well, bless your well-intentioned hearts. But please let me lay your concerns at rest: it is actually less annoying to hold conversations on the bus stop, rather than on the bus itself. See, once we’re all on the bus, there’s no escaping your conversation. But if we’re only on the bus stop, there’s room to move around. In fact—and you might have noticed some of our fellow riders do this, the ones who are awesome—you could even stake out a spot in line and then go for a stroll while you talk on your cell. Wouldn’t that be nice?
Anyway, fellow riders, I was just wondering.
Yours in the fellowship of mass transit,
Ian
ARGH! I HATE those people! Dealt with those asshats constantly when I was commuting to San Francisco. My bus ran right through the Financial District and since I rode home at 3 I got stuck with all the early-rising stock brokers. Imagine a whole bus full of people in suits shouting into their cellphones. It took all my willpower not to start stabbing people in the face.
Speaking of stabbings, did you ever get around to throttling the dude blaring the heavy metal on his headphones?
Your commute sounds similar to my own personal vision of hell. If there had been tarantulas involved, it surely would have been a glimpse of Ian’s Personal Hell. How did you not stab people in the face, like, every day?
The heavy metal guy disappeared. I don’t know how or why or what those strange angular burn marks on the door to his apartment were. Or even if there WERE strange angular burn marks on the door to his apartment. I’m just saying, if there were, I wouldn’t know anything about them, because how could I? I wasn’t there. You can’t prove anything. Anybody with the proper credentials is welcome to look through my records. My files are in order. WHY IS THIS TURNING INTO A WITCH HUNT?