Bus Tales - What’s happened to you on the bus?

En-Route Ettiquette Takes a Breather

As some of my friends know from my text messages en-route, the personal hell I call mass transit is full of colorful folks on the Downtown-to-Uptown line. Today, I got in line for the #4 bus behind
one such young man. The minute I ascended the stairs, I was enveloped in – not a slight whiff of – but rather drenched in an overpowering invisible cloud of pot. That’s fine, in and of itself, certainly nothing new to my bus ride, but on his way to a seat in the back, this kid starts talking to EVERYone on the bus, and by everyone, I mean every. single. person: “Hey, that’s a nice scarf,” “Hey man, how are you today?” “Ooo, it’s too cold for me out there.” (original!)

Yeah, kiddo – drugs make you super-cool, don’t they?

Now, he starts talking to me after we’re seated, and I leave NO room for error, but nod noncommitally and quickly take out my phone to start texting or whatever I can to try to look otherwise engaged. This doesn’t deter him from having every manner of conversation with each and every person in proximity: e.g., the guy who sat next to me w/ a Target bag: “Target, huh? Gotta love that place. You know, my old girlfriend’s dad OWNED Target, man.”

After about 12 straight minutes of this, his phone interrupts him. It’s one of those walkie-talkie kinds that, apparently, works only on speakerphone. So he starts YELLING to his friend (among intermittent loud BEEP!s, at every change in speaker) about NOTHING and I simultaneously hit my last nerve.

So, I tap him on the shoulder and inquire: “Excuse me, are you socially retarded, or do you not know that it’s NOT ok to talk on speakerphone on the bus?” This gets a chilly reception, then he gets huffy. Like, little kid huffy. He’s all “Why you gotta be like that?” and “I don’t see it bothering anyone else here…” I told him that I begged to differ, and when prompted for why I was being like that,
responded, “Because you smell like a grateful dead concert and haven’t SHUT. UP. since we got on this bus!” (at this point, there’s clearly no editing function left between my lizard brain and my vocal chords) Hmph.

So he eventually gave up the fight and moved, thank god, and seemed more hurt that really, effectively pissed off. After about 3 minutes of blissful peace and quiet, the Target Bag Guy (who’s apparently on some sort of satellite delay) looks at me and goes:

TBG: Why did you say he smelled like a grateful dead show?
Me: He smelled like pot.
TBG: But… (extended pause) I’ve been to two grateful dead shows. They, uh, don’t shower.
Me: *Blink* *blink* Uh… never mind.
TBG: But… They don’t shower.

So, uh, yeah. At this point, I’m definitely not dealing with him, either. And, much to my chagrin, I get no “Sally Field in Norma Rae” moment where there’s a groundswell of applause from my fellow riders. If I’d borne witness to someone telling off this twirp, there’d have been much backslapping and high-fiving on my part.

I guess a girl just can’t get ahead… on the bus. Only a short 13 hours til my next ride.
*sigh*

Tale by Betty, posted on February 23, 2007, Tagged with annoying, conversation, drugs, etiquette, funny, pot, smoke, talkative

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