There’s a lot to be said about riding the bus. If you try hard enough, you might even think of something good.
OK, it’s not really all that bad. Having to catch a bus in the morning and after work – to take me to my car so I can drive the final 7 miles of my 8-mile commute – has kept me on track, I’ve gotten to work on time or even early most days, I get home at the same time … there are some good things.
Most of the people are even friendly. Being the sort of person to strike up a conversation with darned near everyone, it’s nice that no one seems to mind and, in fact, most will join in. A few mornings we’ve had a group of 4 or 5 people chatting while waiting for the bus to arrive.
But it’s those few – those sour, surly, grumpy, grouchy few – who make the whole ride seem less enjoyable.
To the old man who nudged me out of the way so he could board (even though I really was there first): Keep your elbows to yourself. Chivalry is not so far gone that you need to be rude. I might have even given you my seat if you hadn’t been such a crotchety ol’ guy.
To the large obnoxious man yelling on his cell phone: Get your own damned paper. We don’t want to hear you yell at whichever poor soul pissed you off today, and we sure aren’t going to make your life easier while you do it. Hang up the phone, put it in your pocket and get your own paper.
To the cute little blonde who feels entitled to the first place on the bus every afternoon? Oh, nevermind. You wouldn’t understand. Entitlement is something you think you were born with.
To the 2/3 of the bus riders who spend the trip to your car fiddling with your phone: Beware. Today is the day you say “hi.” Even if I have to sit and stare at you until you look up.
I’ll do it, too.
Pour Me Some Whine 