These past few months have given me the opportunity to test out the local transit system. The bus and Skytrain have become my second home: between the hour and a half bus rides to school five days a week to the, thankfully, much shorter commute to the Barn of Crowds and Generally Annoying People (known to some simply as “the mall”) I’ve become more than accustomed to the lumpy seats, the riders who attempt to pay for only half of the zones we all know they’re going to cross, and the jerky stops of the newer bus drivers.
I’ve gotten to know some of the drivers. Not by name or anything. I do recognize which ones smile and wish you a good day, or the ones who avoid eye contact and reek of that certain odour…the one they call “I Hate My Job” (I’m sure you’ve caught a whiff of it at a clothing store or two). I see these dudes more than I see my own neighbours.
Since I’ve promised not to become a bitching blog (note: that’s “bitching” not “BITCHIIIN'”, since the latter carries a much more positive vibe) I won’t even start on my fellow passengers or the revolting residues they leave behind. Just allow me to hint at that one time I leaned against the window and came away with a gnarly substance that solidified my hair into rock solid chunks. I still don’t know what it was, and I would really, really prefer to never find out.
But it’s not all bad.
There are some days where it’s enough for me to just curl up in my heavy coat and enjoy the sunrise (back when I was on the bus by 7.30 in the morning). Most people around me are plugged in to some device or other, but on mornings like these I find that music almost hinders the whole experience. I tend to enjoy these times the best: when I don’t need to fill the silence with a song, or load my brain with a Sudoku puzzle or the storyline of whatever novel I’m reading (or the odd occasion where I actually, you know, do my school readings). My bus’s route takes me past farmlands and my absolute favourite part of this whole morning is how the sun looks, casting its rays all over the world. It’s like the opening of Pride and Prejudice, I swear to God, and I just want to be Keira Knightley trampling around in the fields with gorgeous music playing over my frolicking.
Any bus stories to share? Good experiences, bad experiences?