Somewhere in Hollywood I became aware of some antagonistic behavior in the back of the bus. A young guy whose black pleather jacket and fluffy soft curls were so early 80s Brooklyn was blurting profanities at some other guys. The other guys disembarked at the next rail connection stop, muttering inaudible pities. That’s when I noticed the verbally abusive hipster’s face was streaked with tears.

“Buy, that guy…,” he said quietly between choking sobs. “He tried to…” He was clinging to something that wasn’t making any sense. His friend in a backwards Dodgers-blue hat was trying to calm him but it wasn’t helping. There was a subtle tension. We were sharing this guy’s bad trip across town. I scanned the faces of other passengers – only some seemed aware of it.

Then I heard the unmistakable sound of thick liquid sloshing onto a hard surface. An older man in a side-facing seat in the back reached up to open a window. The young hipster was slumped over in the seat in front of him, his white shirt now stained with amber droplets. His friend put an arm around him.

My stomach flinched in empathy: the weakness, vulnerability and pain in vomiting usually makes me cry too. When a girl on my school bus in elementary threw up, we stopped for a few minutes while the driver covered it up. But tonight, the 4 kept rolling. My stop was next.

*Cross posted on Rapid Transit District, which chronicles observations and experiences taking transit in Los Angeles.

She was a larger woman… I’m no thin mint over here either, I’m not saying this to be rude, but she was a bit bigger and wearing clothes that didn’t fit the best. Tight pants and a too small tank top. Fine, it happens to the best of us.

We’re riding along and nearing 26th street when all of a sudden this lady whips out some body spray and starts spraying herself. She sprays on her neck, arms, and for good measure, one right in the crotch! WHOA! Someone must have a hot date.

Well as you can assume, after a few moments the smell started shifting towards the back. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it did smell like a cherry freeze pop. Interesting. Then top it off, she decides to pull out her phone… from in between her breasts! Forget about a purse, when you got a pair, use them! I just found it incredibly entertaining.

Whenever someone went by me getting on or off, they would collide with my legs and I’d have to excuse myself. The woman next to me was on and off her mobile the whole time and looking out the window so I decided it wouldn’t be creepy and I probably wouldn’t bother her if I sat like a normal person. So I did.

But not before this huge woman came barreling down the aisle and smashed into me (maybe this is what made me sit proper) and sat down by the driver on the door side of the bus. “Where the hotel at?” she asked. The bus driver, who had the microphone on and next to his mouth the entire trip answered that he didn’t know which hotel the woman was speaking of.

“The…the one hotel,” said the woman, who looked and talked like she was half-way through her second bottle of vermouth of the day. She pulled out a piece of paper, squinted at it and said, “The Aqua City Hotel”.

The woman next to me was on her phone, but talking at an appropriate volume as the driver explained to the woman that he didn’t go by that hotel and that she’d have to walk about eight blocks to get there. The microphone was still on.

A gentleman in front of us decided to be a good citizen and try to help the lady out. “You’ve got to get off at 58th and walk over to Nicollet” he told her. “Where the hotel at?” she kept asking.

Finally the woman next to me hung up her phone and shook her head and said something like, “The bus, huh?”

Now this is me trying to be sauve: “Oh yeah. It’s an experience.”

We talked for a while about public transport and how much more “sophisticated” (her word, not mine) New York’s is, and how Minneapolis’ is only good for getting downtown. But the thing is this: she was a toucher! She kept touching my arm while we were talking like if she didn’t have a firm grasp on me, I’d stop listening to what she was saying. I felt like I was talking to Uncle Leo!

So we chatted in this manner for our last eight blocks or so, while the other woman tried find out where the hotel was at from the driver and the good citizen that apparently didn’t understand that she didn’t understand that nobody knew what she was talking about.

DON’T SIT HERE
POOP

There was an arrow pointing down, and sure enough there was a pile of poop on the seat. Someone was thoughtful enough to make a sign, but apparently not so much that they needed to inform the bus driver of the situation. But hey, at least there was a sign.

After one street, she stood up, turned to face the bus riders, and announced to everyone, “Ok, today I am going to talk about money. You all have a lot of it, and I don’t have any. God says money will lead you to hell, so I think you should give your money to me, so I can go buy some dope.”

After getting no takers, and just one more stop later she got off the bus.

I was standing at the bus stop this morning, waiting patiently for the 4 to arrive. As I was standing I noticed an older gentleman crossing Lyndale Avenue. He was crossing on the “do not walk” symbol and was nearly hit 3 times by vehicles making their way down the street. They honked, he just kept going and amazingly, safely made it to the stop. I had a feeling that this fellow was going to chat it up. My feeling was right.

He begins by asking me about my lip piercing. He wanted to know if I had gotten it as a political stance or to make a statement. Of course the only reason I got it was because I thought it would be cool. I have no reason other than that. I explain this to him… he seems to get it but proceeds on with telling me about his stint in rehab. Apparently he met a homosexual male in rehab that he experimented with. He had always been into women but decided to give men a whirl for a while. Wow. Of course this conversation leads to him asking me if I live an “alternative” lifestyle. No, I’m straight. He figured I was but had to ask. Nice.

The conversation, which is basically him talking at me while I stare longingly down the street praying for the bus to arrive, proceeds with him talking about living in Georgia, how he considers himself a parasite in the world because he is unemployed, and how he thinks I look like a Spanish Princess. WTF? I am not even close to looking Spanish… I mean, yes, I have dark hair, but other than that, my features are very Minnesotan. The other bus patron waiting at the stop gave me “I feel really sorry for you” looks. I retorted with a “HELP ME” look. It was magic. In any case… once I stepped on the bus I found a seat far enough away that he didn’t keep the convo going. Thank goodness for that… now I am safely at my desk awaiting 5 p.m. when I can roll out and do it all over again… hopefully minus the insane.

A few moments later I came upon the ultimate solution. I put my hand in my coat pocket and began brushing his ass back and forth with it. He was on the other side of the bus as quick as lightning. Others have pointed out that this trick might “rub someone the wrong way” and land me in a bit of trouble.

That said- the other day we were almost to University Ave when a taxi apparently just stopped in the lane directly in front of our bus. I couldn’t see, but the taxi was either dropping off or picking someone up. Our bus driver was NOT happy. He decided to LAY on the horn of our bus and didn’t stop. And by didn’t stop I mean he held down the horn and didn’t let up.

The taxi didn’t seem to mind, but all the rest of us did. I saw people come to the windows of businesses to see what the hell was going on. No exaggeration: that horn rang out for a good 4 minutes straight.

I feel for the driver – but that was not helping. I generally read a book and tune everything else out on the bus- but it was impossible to do so that day.

As it turns out, an elderly gentleman sitting in one of the sideways-facing seats was flirting with a disinterested woman across the aisle from him, and I was ruining his sight line — so he just decided to shove me backwards instead of asking me to move or waiting for the bus distribution to thin out. Not wanting to ruin the few love connections the old rip had left in him, I allowed the shoving and wedged myself further back…mainly because I wanted to see whether he was going to take it to the hole or not.

His next move: asking a fellow bus rider for a pen so he could pass the lady his number. Class act.

Generally speaking- most bus drivers will wait to move on until you are seated or at least will give a cautionary, “you ok if I go ahead?” type warning. Such is not the case with this driver. As soon as my bus pass popped back up from the fairbox he gunned it. Juggling the ‘cakes and my purse/wallet/buss pass I stumbled forward, and because I had no hands free- basically landed in the lap of some unfortunate soul.

What frustrated me in this situation?
1) the person I fell into was NOT happy with me
2) the bus driver made no apology
3) all those around me acted as if they didn’t see it or try to help

Oh well- I saved the cupcakes and had a good laugh by myself once seated comfortably (and safely) in a seat.