Sunday, December 28, 2003
Joe Metro-My Stretch Limo Driver
Yesterday I showed up for work about 1/2 hour early. My boss saw me immediately and asked me to start right away. I did. Last night my boss begged me to stay on for another two hours. I did. When that two hours was up, the lead asked me to stay another half an hour. I did. I was finally released, walked towards the bus stop and had the distinct pleasure of watching the bus leave without me watched in horror as I missed my bus by 10 seconds.
I had to wait an hour for the next one.
I’ve decided to write about each glorious experience when dealing with mass transit so that I can remind myself, when I come home after working late yet again and coming in on my day’s off, just exactly why the hell I’m killing myself for the almighty dollar.
My first 6 years or so in Seattle, I had to ride the bus. I’ve had some experiences to say the least, but it has been so long since I’ve had such annoying ones; the type that would make me lay my ears back, flat, were I a cat. It was those experiences that prompted me to work extremely hard to earn the money for a car. See, I was advised at that time too, to get a beater that would get me from point A to point B and back again but I just can’t throw my money away on something like that. If I can’t have what I want, I just won’t get one. As far as cars go, if I can’t get the car I want, I’m not going to waste my money on some car I hate, the insurance, tabs, gas, etc. I’d rather save that money till I could afford the one I wanted.
Anyway, I digress, I worked really, really hard for a car, found the one I wanted and enjoyed the hell out of it until it was totaled less than a year later by some schmuck who decided that although he was turning left into oncoming traffic, he needed not to yield. I was t-boned and the car was destroyed.
I was very upset because I had worked so damn hard for that thing. No one understood me. “It’s just an object, be lucky YOU are okay.” No. You don’t know what I went through to get it in the first place.
My mother, in her naive optimism tried to point out to me how wonderful it is to ride the bus. She actually said, “Just think of all the things you get to see!” Really mother? When is the last time YOU rode Metro? Hell, when is the last time you lived in a city for that matter?
Let me tell you some of the things I got to see while I worked my ass off to earn my car in the first place:
I got to see a man go into seizure from an overdose on drugs.
I got to see a man puke all over himself and the floor and seat of the bus.
I got to sit near a man who urinated in his pants and all over the seat and floor of the bus.
I got to listen to a punk call me a white devil and threaten to stab me because I rejected his advances.
I got to see and feel the spit that another punk had saved up for a half an hour after I rejected him and he spat it all over me as he got off the bus. I have never, in my life, witnessed such a large quantity of spit....and it stunk to add the icing on the cake.
Yes, how wonderful.
However, I got another car after that first one was t-boned. I’ve already told you the story with that one, (for the newcomers, that was when I was plowed into by some prick who decided smoking pot and joyriding was an excellent idea....after it was fixed, it was stolen. Whee!)
I was back to the bus. This time, though, my job was different, I lived closer to town and the grocery store delivered. No need for a car. The people on the bus were all hard working individuals just like myself. On the way to work, the most annoying thing was the overpowering stench of 40 commuters’ lattes or espressos. Most people busied themselves with the newspaper or some liberal book. No one tried to pick me up, no one tried to converse with me and no one spit on me. I didn’t forget those incidents but I had, honestly, forgotten just how horrid public transportation could really be.
For Christmas, my brother got me a Sony Net MD Walkman/recorder/player. (It rules!) I can put the headphones on and be left alone. However, while I’m not on the bus, I do not have my headphones on so apparently that means, I’m still fair game.
Today while waiting for the bus, a guy was walking down the sidewalk towards me on his way somewhere. He opted to take the second sidewalk closest to some apartment buildings when he stopped, came back and said, “Hey there.” I, being courteous at least, responded with a toneless, “What’s goin’ on?”
He continued walking and I continued waiting for the bus. Next thing I know, he’s walking back up to me and the following conversation took place:
Stranger: Are you single?
Me: (lying) No.
Stranger: Oh, that’s too bad. You’re good looking.
Me: (toneless and with a “I’m really not amused” smile) Thanks.
Stranger: (starts to walk off, then decides to ask more questions) Do you and your boyfriend see others or are you exclusive?
Me: (Oh for cripes’ sake!) No, I don’t share.
Stranger: So you don’t have threesomes or anything like that?
Me: No.
Stranger: Ok, well.......see ya....congratulations!
Uh...did I say I was getting hitched?
Just one little thing: Lest anyone think I’m full of myself, trust me, being “asked out” (if you can call it that) by these people was in no way, shape or form, flattering. These weren’t exactly the cream of the crop.
Anyway, the above story doesn’t quite beat the time I lived in Seattle and had a job that required me to catch the bus at 9:30 at night along Aurora Ave. Those from that area know what Aurora is known for. For those who don’t, it’s known for hookers. Nasty hookers. So, one night, I’m bundled up, standing in the rain, waiting for my bus. On any given night I would get propositioned no less than 4 times in the half an hour I stood there waiting.
However, the day I decided to quit my job because it just wasn’t worth the risk was the day after a guy pulled up behind me, walked up to me, VERY quietly, and stood there for who knows how long.
I had been sensing someone behind me but I’m a pretty damn alert person so this guy had to go out of his way to get within reach of me, undetected. I started to turn, knowing someone was there when he spoke.
Freak: What are you doing?
Me: (Instinct screaming) What the fuck does it look like I’m doing dipshit?
Freak: Need a ride?
Me: Not from your sorry ass.
Freak: (silent, staring)
Me: What the fuck? If you’re done with the Spanish Inquisition, you can fucking leave now.
Freak: (Because it was raining and because he apparently thought I was a hooker simply for standing on Aurora) Don’t get wet.
Oh, you’re so damn funny. I told him to shut up and he finally left.
Anyway, so yes, I’ve had my share of craptastic bus stories, should any of you have doubted that from reading my other entries. I still will, however, share each and every single one that irritates me for my strength and for your pleasure. Someday, I’ll have yet another car and I will once again, laugh at my times on the bus.
