"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!

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!

My First Experience (the first time is never as good as they say)

I live in the glorious San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles County, California. Under circumstances that were not foreseen, I have been....pushed or forced into relying on the good ole public transit form of commuting to work. I'm in my 40's and I think I've ridden the public bus once in my life, back when I was 17.

Which no longer counts.

So...my first day on the Orange Line Bus, going to work, I had NO idea what the hell I was doing. I knew where I had to go, but I had no idea how to go about getting there.

So I got on. Looked around and realized there were no available seats.

Crap.

I stood, holding onto a pole and tried not to fall on my ass each time the bus accelerated. It was probably the worst "pole dance" ever performed, or witnessed in case anyone noticed.

I was in the back of the really long bus that reminds me of a caterpillar and I couldn't hear the conductor or recorded stop announcements. Very stressful as I stood there in my boots and slacks with my purse and backpack (with lunch, coffee and water inside) trying not to land on my ass or in someone else's lap....I'm positive thats not considered a lap dance although the quality would equal my preceding pole dance.

Oh...and there's this cord thing that you're suppose to pull when your stop is next, so the driver knows to stop. Hmm...they don't automatically stop at every stop? ooook.....guess I'll have to learn the route.

Shit.

And start learning how to pull a cord. That I can't reach from my pole (new found bff)

After much anxiety and a very stressful 30 minutes, I got off the bus at the correct stop and found my way to work. A minor mile stone.

But the real fun didn't begin until my ride home.

The final destination going home, is a crappy city called North Hollywood. The city has tried to make it more "trendy" and less scary by calling parts of it NoHo. WTF? Its a disgusting, dirty, run down, ignored part of Los Angeles County and the ONLY thing it has in common with Hollywood is that its NORTH of there. Thats it. The End.

Its a slum. They have shootings there at night.

So....coming home, I have to take the bus to the "NoHo" district and have my husband pick me up and take me home. Home Sweet Home. I hate that the beautiful city I live in brushes shoulders with North Hollywood.

Anyways....on that memorable first ride home, as the bus was pulling into the layover station in the "lets put icing on shit and call it cake" area that we fondly call NoHo....what do I see but a 1/2 dozen cop cars and just as many if not more, cops standing on the platform waiting for us.

US! The bus. The people ON the bus. I glanced around and wondered....Holy CRAP!! Are the cops here to bust a bunch of gang members? How do I get out of here before this shit comes down??!!!

I rose as everyone else on the bus rose. Only I noticed I was the only one in a near panic! Was everyone else just so use to this? Did this kind of thing happen all the time? Doesn't anyone care that a shootout could happen at any moment? We're on a bus full of GANG MEMBERS people!! Helloooooooo!!!!

As I got off the bus I expected the cops to grab all those gang-member-looking-hoodlums I thought I notice in the back of the bus. But no...one cop was coming towards me! Saying something TO ME!! What? I'm not a trouble maker! Don't you see those tattoo wearing, greased hair, bandana headed, scary looking guys? You're going after the wrong person!!!!

Huh?

You want to see my bus pass?!

OOoooooh. Sure...it's right here.

Thank you for not giving me a $200 fine.

Bummer for that guy over there by the cop car. And why is he in handcuffs? It's only for a bus pass for God's sake. Isn't it? We'll give him the benefit of the doubt and just say that he has never paid his $1.25 bus fair for the past year and has more than a dozen violations.

Ya, that sounds much better.

Cuz you can't assume that every scuzzy guy with a tattoo, greasy hair and bandana is a gang member. Unless you're on T.V. of course.