Not Advised for the Claustrophobic

Hey! Remember me? Ya, it's been awhile. I haven't had to ride the bus. So I didn't. Although I have to admit I miss it. I miss not having to worry about the traffic. I miss just chillin' while I let someone else do the driving. I miss giggling inside at some of the strange people on the bus. I miss gaping in shock at others.

I'm considering taking the bus again. On occasion. But I do have to go from one office to another for work sometimes. Without my car, that would be a bit of a challenge. I don't want to have to walk a mile each way....I'm just kinda lazy like that I guess.

So what am I doing here? Well, I was summoned for the dreaded "J" word.

JURY DUTY!!!

I had been on call all week and thought for sure I had escaped having to report in so far. You know how they do that....call every night between 5pm and midnight to see if you'll have to go to the court house. (In my case, I was assigned to the court downtown. Nooooooooo). Well, last night (Wednesday) I forgot to call. I don't know what happened. I looked at my jury info at one point but figured....eh, I'll call later.

Well....I woke up at 4:30 in the morning and jumped out of bed!!! OMG!! I didn't call!!

They say if you don't call, your service week will start over on Monday.

Holy Crap....I didn't want to go through this again. I mean I had already gotten through half the week, right?

So I figured....hmm...lets call at 4:30 am and see what happens.

Well damn....the recording told me I had to be downtown by 7:30 a.m. geeeeesh. Now what? If I go back to bed, I'll sleep in too late. I couldn't reset the alarm clock without waking up the husband and getting all sorts of crap. (NOT a good way to start the day). So up I was. I did doze off on the couch for about 30 minutes though.

Now...the transportation dilemma. Do I fight traffic and parking and all that crap? I seriously hate driving downtown.

Nope....I take the redline. Also known as the subway.

Who decided that it was a good idea to build a SUBWAY in Los Angeles?? I wonder how many faults that subway crosses. And being underground...you KNOW that it's even closer to the actual faults than what's above ground.

It scares the hell out of me.

I mean, eventually, somethings gonna shake, right?

But tons of people take it anyway. Are they all lulled into a false sense of security since nothing's happened so far?

I sucked it up though....despite my fears, and took the subway in the middle of earthquake country.

And I lived to tell about it.

This is the entrance to the subway in North Hollywood. It looks rather grand. Almost like you're entering some sort of arena and about to have a lovely time.

(from this man rushing towards the depths of L.A., you can see that plastic bag lunches have replaced the brown paper bag lunches these days)

Let me tell you what it's like once you're inside those lovely arches. You descend. Down the longest escalator I've ever seen. And it keeps going and going. To a platform where you purchase your ticket ($1.25...not bad). Then you get on another escalator and descend some more. To what seems like the center of the earth.

How close do they want us to be to those damn faults anyway?

The place is clean though. And the people aren't quite so weird. I bet that scene changes at night, right? I mean, it goes straight through Hollyweird and into downtown Los Angeles.

The Orange Line (bus) is much more entertaining during the day.

But when I got off the train at the Civic Center....I looked around to see where to go. And I looked up.

WTF? What are those! and Why?

These...."people" were randomly strung from the ceiling!! Are they falling?? Cuz if we had an earthquake, isn't that what would happen? People from the streets above would fall through the gaping cracks in the streets and sidewalks and fall into the subway!

Who's idea was this?!

I don't get it. It kinda creeped me out.

Jury dury is another story, if desired. I slept through a lot of it. (if I snored, please don't tell me. What I don't know will make me feel better about myself)

Guess what I found out on the way home? There are 2 subway trains down there. The other is called the Purple Line. But it still has a red "racing stripe" across each section of the train. And for a while it uses the same track. Then heads off into another section of Los Angeles.

I got on that train by accident.

How was I to know? The little header on the train is to small to read...especailly as it zoooooms by when it pulls into the station.

No worries though...I got off at the next stop and found the right train. I found my way home. I didn't get stuck in the subway. I didn't get crushed. I didn't have any random flying bodies fall on me from above.

I hope I don't have to do it again anytime soon though. I mean.....it's not my thing.

I'd much rather ride the Orange Line.

I think I have some photos from last year and a few little stories I could share with you. Hopefully you'll be hearing from me again soon.

What NOT to wear

Once upon a time....there was this lady who forgot how to dress with taste. She woke up one morning and didn't even know what size she wore.

Apparently some tainted frog prince that she had kissed on the previous day had cast an evil spell on her.

When she looked in the closet, what she saw vs. what was actually there, were two totally different things.

She pulled out a beautiful cobalt blue dress that looked great with her complexion and offset her auburn shoulder length curls exquisitely.

With a smile on her face and a extra swing of confidence in her hips, she put on this lovely "new" dress.

Stepping in front of the mirror, she was rewarded with a vision of beauty from her head to her toes. Lustrous bouncing curls...peaches and cream skin, buxom bosoms followed my that hollywood hourglass figure... shapely legs and petite ankles.

Low and behold, in the closet were a pair of the perfect shoes to offset those delicate feet...

She was thrilled with herself.

And off she went to begin her day.

Walking down the street with her bag stroller

Full of her knitting and lunch and other daily necessities.

And onto the bus she stepped.

No one could take their eyes off of her. Thus boosting her moral all the more.

Little did she know that what she had actually put on that morning was a bumble bee dress, 2 sizes too small (causing the ever dreaded sausage effect)...with a black belt around her non existent waist.

except for when she sat down and it transformed into a belt around her breasts.

Are buses gross or the people?

Well, I had a reprieve from my bus riding for a while. As nice as it is to have a car with me at all times, I think I enjoy that down time while on the bus...no hassles, no traffic...just me and my blackberry....poking around the net for 30 minutes or so.

And now I'm back. For some reason I have that old funny version of the Queen song...Another One Rides the Bus (crap, thats what I should've named this blog! duh) floating through my head.

Anyways.....I think the hardest part about riding the bus, are the gross things. They aren't apparent on a regular basis, but there are times......

Smelly homeless crazy guy.... You can smell him across the isle, while he sits there with a trade magazine....crossing off ad sections with his marker, for what ever reason...and ends up crossing out the whole page, section by section, and ripping the page out then throwing the pages on the floor. I wonder if in his crazy little mind, he thinks he's doing something important?

And there's the poor working man who has his lunch (I assume?) in a black plastic bag...with some mysterious liquid dripping from the bottom. Onto his shoe. Onto the floor. His pant leg..oooh god, NO don't swing that bag over here!!!

And then there's the highlight of my ride this morning. The guy across from me...wiping something red on the palm of his hand, until the red disappears. Oh...that was blood. niiiiice. His elbow is bleeding a tiny bit. Apply pressure with your finger...good idea. Oh wait..no no no...don't rip the scab off!! Ewww...scab is being held between the forefinger and thumb....

Where will it end up???

On the floor?

Over his shoulder, behind the seat?

Casually flicked into oblivion?

Wiped off onto the seat?

No....Let's drop it into....

his LUNCH BAG!!!

OMFG!!!

(GAG!!)

"THEY'RE ALIVE!!"

I took the regular bus a block from my house to the Orange Line one day. My daughter was with me. The Orange Line stops right at the college she attends and I wanted her to know how to get to school without me. She had been, and still is, really reluctant to take public transportation but she doesn't have a car. Beggar's can't be choosers, right?

What happened next made it more difficult to convince her that it was O.K. to take the bus!

Damn crazy man!

This was my first time taking the Metro Bus. Wow......what an experience.

We got to the bus stop in plenty of time. Much to my daughters irritation. Heaven forbid we wait for 10 minutes. And the horror of standing at a bus stop. I swear, she stood behind the bus stop so know one driving by would see her.

Can you say prima donna?

The bus stopped. We got on. Dropped our $1.25 each, into the money collector thingy (I have noooo idea what those things are really called) and promptly found two empty seats.

There was a rather old man sitting fairly close to us and he was mumbling about something. At first I didn't pay much attention. I was just trying to get my bearings and figure this new experience out.

Then I heard a few detached words.....hand. fingers.....alive.

hmmm....what the hell?

I didn't want to stare but I HAD to look.

This old man, in his mexican accent was talking to his hand? or maybe to anyone who would listen.....saying....

"They're alive!!"

What? what's alive? (I must pay more attention....what is this man talking about??)

Then my phone "vibrates". Who would be trying to contact me at 7:30 a.m.?

A text......from my daughter. Who's sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME!!!

"Mom....who is that man talking to????"

LMAO!!! my reply..."I have noooooo idea!!" ***send***

So I listen some more. And observe more closely. And see him massaging his wrist and hand as he stretches his fingers....all the while he's proclaiming....

"THEY'RE ALIVE!!!!"

OMG!!! I'm on the bus with a crazy man!!

He proceeds to explain (to whom ever happens to be listening) that as long as he keeps massaging his wrist and hand, that his fingers will return to life!

Oh great! Now my daughter will never use the bus!! And I'm not so sure I want to either. I mean the old man is harmless but still. It's too early for this shit! Really. It is. I mean my day is just beginning. Please tell me this isn't a sign of how the day ahead will unfold.

And old man? Please stop talking to the bus driver cuz he keeps turning around to answer you so that he knows for sure you can hear him. And to be honest, I'd rather the driver look ahead while he's driving this big bus along these pot-hole ridden roads and avoids crashing into a parked car.

And old man? I'm not so sure you completely understand what the bus driver is saying cuz I think he's sorta making fun of you. And all the other mexican occupants. Because his final question was...."You don't understand a word I'm saying do you? Maybe you should learn English before you ask me questions. It might be helpful."

Ouch! (but true)

But Mr. Bus Driver....have a little heart. This old man is trying very vigilantly to resuscitate his dead fingers. I think they died in Vietnam. If you listen close enough, I think that old man has a whole conspiracy theory wrapped around his life (and dead fingers).

And he's trying to convince us that it's true. I believe he will only be happy if we were all massaging our wrists and hands.....as we resuscitate our dead fingers.

For some reason...the word "Zombie" keeps coming to mind.

Must find another route. FAST!

Clowns Really ARE Scary!

It's a Friday evening and the bus is loaded with people. Standing room only. Yours truly was lucky enough to have a seat. No bus poll dancing for me that night. (you can thank me later)

I'm reading a book and notice out of the corner of my eye some really odd looking, rather large lime green and white shoes....wtf???

My eyes slowly move up.....

Striped red and white socks

Short blue pants with white stripe up the side... red suspenders

Red and blue striped shirt

Smeared white makeup

Half of a red exaggerated smile (the rest looked like he had a stroke during the application and then forgot to finish wiping it off)

Short brown hair, sticking up everywhere. Not sure if that was on purpose or just from a long day.

Then he opened his mouth and you couldn't understand a word he said. I think he thought he knew english.

I have my serious doubts.

I really felt sorry for the cute young, newly married couple across from me. This deranged clown kept trying to talk to them. The couple was so polite...bless their hearts...they kept shaking there heads. And the clown pressed on

The heads kept shaking NO. The poor gal even started to get this worried, apologetic look on her face like she wants to say..."Please....I don't understand and I don't want you to look at me anymore...stop talking, I really can't understand a word you're saying!"

furtive glance at hubby...that pleading look that says "doooo something!!"

Then he reached into a bag......while babbling in his horrible, still not understood englishy language. "amay for ju annie mabayoon"

I was getting a little nervous. What do scary, crazy ass clowns keep in their bag of tricks?

He pulled out....

a balloon. Of course. duh.....balloon animals anyone? Dude, we're on a bus, trying to get home from work...we're tired, its the end of the day, the end of the WEEK. This isn't a 7 year olds birthday party (btw, that 7 yr old would've ran to his room crying after one look at that clown).

I seriously wish I had thought to take a picture of this guy.

He was relentless...he kept looking around the bus trying to talk people into one of his animal balloons.

hmm...instead of averting my eyes, frantically avoiding eye contact...I should've let him make one for me. Now that hes long gone and of no threat, I'd be curious to know what kind of balloon animals a scary ass clown makes....great white sharks? vampire bats? wolverines?

oooh....maybe he makes rattlesnakes....that'd be more his speed.

Lets just get this clown off the bus before he trips someone with those damn shoes.

Here's Your Sign.....

Nope...I didn't have any smelly people on the bus ask me what my sign is. Although when I looked at them, I envisioned special signs around each of there necks....

* girl with wet hair, wearing too much Amber Romance - "Wannabe Future Herbal Essence Star"

*smelly old man going home to his wife - "Wife Repellent"

*unbathed kids - "Future Germaphobic"

However, there are other signs...both visible and invisible. And lets not forget the visible ones that are selectively invisible, apparently.

Case in point: The Orange Line has its own road. For buses only! No traffic, no idiots on the road to deal with. (just idiots on the bus)

At least thats how it should be.

On my way home there was a police car parked in the bus lane at one of the stops. Not a normal occurrence (when police visit the stops, they park somewhere else).

hmm...whats that ahead of the police car? A car! A regular everyday street car.

Getting a ticket.

Because he didn't see the HUGE ass sign?

What part of DO NOT ENTER did he not understand?

Here's Your Sign!

What about invisible signs. Or...actions....expressions? Mixed signals?

The little walking person is going in the same direction as the arrow.

It says not to walk, but to use the crosswalk. Should I......skip?

Then there's the man in the wheelchair, dressed in black leather pants, black vans, tatoos. Kinda looked like a washed up hair band member (drummer would be my guess since he played the air-drums the whole time). Did I mention that he was maybe in his 60's? and had straw like black died hair? It seemed that....his legs worked fine. He zooomed (literally zoomed, almost knocking the old lady down in front of him) his wheelchair into place and then proceeded to use his legs to brace himself from rolling forward at each stop. He even stood up once. I dunno about you, but that was a little bit confusing.

What about the guy that frowns at you the whole time he's staring at your breast? Guess he's not real happy about what he's looking at. (Then STOP looking!!)

Be careful about that seemingly polite man who offers you his seat. Especially when he stands right in front of you. Where do you look??? (Can't he go stand in front of a blind man or something?)

I no longer try to have conversations with other people on the bus. (first of all, you discover that they have bad breath the minute they open their mouth) Ever since I talked to a very nice older woman who looked at me and gave me the sweetest smile, nodding her head as I talked. Come to find out...she didn't understand a bit of english.

Maybe now I know who to tell my deepest secrets too.

Smellies on The Bus

Whenever you get a large group of people together, there are going to be smells....scents, odors, good, bad and just plain ugly.

Guess what people! You have control over some of this. Water and soap will take care of a majority of the problems. Moms....bathe your kids! Wives....good lord, how can you live with that smelly man?! Tell him. For the love of Pete (or for Pete's sake.). Geeze, forget Pete.....do it for ME!

When you see a homeless person, you just automatically breathe a little shallower until you're out of their odorous range. When you see a laborer at the end of the day....you can bet that smell is body odor, not onions. (But go ahead, keep fooling yourself. I know...it's always easier to think that you're smelling onions).

It's those in betweens that get you. The old man with a nicely pressed shirt, who apparently doesn't believe in deodorant. Look mister, you're no longer living in a 3rd world country. Deodorant is sold on every corner. Shit, you can even buy it from your local liquor store or 7-Eleven. You're in America and as a general rule here, we shower more than once a week! You just might even be one of those people who should shower more than once a DAY!! (imagine that! Showering on a daily basis). Yup....turn that knob and water comes out 24 / 7 (provided you've paid your water bill of course).

It's the little boy and little girl who seem to be wearing clean clothes but as they sit next to me, it becomes obvious that bathing has been absent in their bedtime routine. A second look at mom tells me she's a little off. One of those older moms that kinda remind you of a different era....60's perhaps? Prim and proper and a little to attached to polyester. And why is this little boy, who appears to be pushing 3 years old, still drinking for a bottle? I'm thinking a little therapy might be in his future.

But not all odors are created equal. The minute I stepped on the bus, my senses were bombarded with a familiar scent.....Amber Romance by Victoria's Secret. Which use to be one of my favorites. Until I discovered that the girl, seated 10 rows behind me....ya, the one with the wet hair, has bathed in the stuff. My suspicions were confirmed when the air was clear the moment she got off the bus. Hasn't anyone ever told her that too much of a good thing is bad? I wonder what scent she was trying to cover up? Not that I ever really want to know for sure.

Then there's the inevitable. That distinct, disgusting, unmistakable little thing they call flatulence. The (sometimes) silent gagger (although when you're on a bus the noise will always drown out the sound)....and you have NO idea where it came from....who did it? You can't even be sure who to frown at or get away from. And all the while, you're just praying to God that the people around you don't think it was from YOU!