Wheels On the Bus

I think the bus drivers in this city have way too much power. I realized this today when I dutifully paid my $2.50 for the ride to work this morning without first removing my Ipod and responding to his "Good Morning!"- and as punishment he took off while I was still waiting for my bus pass to spit out from the machine. I said to him "Hey, I'm not done here." thinking this would at least make him slow down. Instead this jack ass responded with "Yeah. I'm late."

He's late. So I was tossed about a moving bus, falling into poles and strangers laps because he was late. Too much power. Here's why. Nobody on the bus is ever happy to be there. I knew this was true when I had a conversation with my best friend about the bus.I remarked that while you may encounter someone weeping openly in the privacy of their own car, you never see anyone crying on the bus. "that's interesting" she said "Because if I was on the bus, I'd be crying." Ouch. But so true. There is not one person on the city bus that is sitting there thinking "You know, life is good. I'm here on this commute with thirty strangers, there's a kid screaming in the back, it smells like BO and salsa and the guy behind me is shouting into his cell phone so loudly that I doubt there is anyone on this bus that is unaware of his entire personal life. Yeah, good times." No. NO! Every single person is thinking What miserable fuck up have I made that landed me here and how can I right this horrible wrong?

There is nothing good about the bus. First of all, its never on time. It's always ten minutes late or arrived and took off seconds before you got there. You never get to the bus stop just as the bus is pulling up. I mean that, it's just an impossibility. If, by some bizarre chance you happen to arrive just before the bus does, you are so shocked by this event that you can't enjoy it. There must be something wrong. Either there is a bomb on the bus or there is about to be a fatal crash. It's like I always say, God doesn't give with both hands.

And another thing. There are no good looking people on the bus. It's always really smelly or really fat, or overly tattooed terrifying people. There sometimes some beautiful girls. Always young- and they always have that depressing air about them, that "I'm sad and desperate and will probably marry someone who does meth and beats me because I am currently pregnant with his child" sort of energy.The guys are forward and obnoxious. I told myself long ago I will never date anyone who I met on the bus. this was a huge moment for me because (and Chris, you probably shouldn't read this next part) I consider myself to be pretty open minded and well, easy. But something inside me says "No, absolutely not, I will not ever date anyone on the city bus." Like- if they can't afford a car they can't afford me- which I'm aware makes me elitist and shallow, but whatever. I have a standard. A standard.

Once- and I mean this- ONCE I saw a beautiful man on the bus. I mean Dolce and Gabanna model hot. He was tall and lean and muscular, and I think- I can't be sure, but everything he did seemed to be in slow motion. Like somewhere, out of sight, there was some photographer documenting his every move "Give me angry. Ooooh. you're amazing, now love me. Make love to the lens, you're a God." I realized that I had been staring at him for an inordinate amount of time- like six or seven stops when he glanced up at me as if to say "What? Stop staring." I wanted to say "Hey, screw you, man- you knew when you got on this bus that you were crazy hot. It is your JOB to be stared at. It's why you were born."

Anyway, this bus driver this morning awakened a secret dream I've had, that had laid dormant for years now. As I was tossed about the aisle, I thought That's fine, asshole. When I shatter my pelvis from being hurled into a metal pole at thirty miles an hour, I will fucking OWN this bus. Hell, I will own MESA and you will become my white slave. So then I started thinking- what am I willing to lose for my dream lawsuit settlement from the city bus? Certainly not a limb. Possibly a broken knee cap or arm. Maybe a few fingers- or hey- why not a broken nose? I'd deal with all of the above at once if it meant a hefty settlement. I'd fill out an accident report- from my hospital bed, of course, detailing the horrors I endured on this bus ride to Hell. I started imagining all the cars and real estate I would purchase- and the look on this dipshit's face when I called him into my estate to fire him, hopefully in front of his children. And when he wept, because this job was all he had- I'd offer him a job as my butler or pool boy- or my driver. And then I was at my stop. Fuck. No lawsuit after all.

The thing is- they have the power because they CAN. Regardless of how miserable we commuters are, it's not like we have a choice. It's the same reason things like brake pads and electricity are so expensive. We need it, so we endure. If oxygen wasn't freely available, I am certain it would cost hundreds of dollars by volume. So I figure, the only way to take the power away is to act like it's no big deal at all. Swing on the poles. Skip down the aisle. Go ahead, bus driver, go faster. See if I care. It's small, but effective.

And when I win my lawsuit, I'll buy a Mercedes and forget all about it.

Except for the nightmares.