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!