On The Bus

I started taking a different bus home to mix things up a bit. The stop is a few blocks away from my usual stop, and there's less people so you're pretty much guaranteed a full seat to yourself.

Whether I like it or not, the bus is a big part of my day.

Today, there was a woman was sitting across the aisle from me. She was about 50 or so, I guess, and was fumbling with a bunch of CDs she'd just purchased. I smiled, thinking, "Man, who still buys CDs?" She started the horrible task of trying to get the plastic off, and the noise make me glance back over. I looked at the CD. It was Toto! How random!! Then I looked at her other CD. Toto! I didn't even know Toto had more than one CD! Awesome. And she looked SO excited, like you know she couldn't wait to get home and put them on.

But the BEST was this other woman. She was carrying around a box of tissues -- not sure what that was about. Her outfit consisted of hiking shoes, Mom jeans, sweatshirt with some school emblem on it , and a F.U.B.U. baseball hat. I was DYING to ask her if she knows what FUBU means, but of course I didn't. I'm not saying whiteys shouldn't wear FUBU*, but the fact that this woman was SO white and it's New Zealand just made it that much better.

And then there's Revolting Hairy Lady, who thankfully is not a regular passenger. She is unshowered, has what appears to be a beard, and completely reeks of stale cigarette smoke mixed with horrendous body odor. She's filthy. It's so bad, even when she leaves, the bus still stinks. I need to be more tolerant of this poor woman, who is clearly mentally ill, but it's tough when she chooses the seat right in front of me.

(*after a brief visit to the FUBU website, maybe we should all wear FUBU -- they donate tons of money to charities around NY and stuff. I bet The Gap can't say that.)