People that drive me nuts while riding the bus…

18Apr09

Hey, dude that doesn’t have bus fare ready! I need to get to fucking work! I don’t have time to sit for 3 minutes while you dig in all your goddam pockets for the appropriate change! You’ve been sitting at the bus stop for 15 minutes! You’ve had ample time to use your crack-riddled brain to count out $1.75. Christ! 

Hey, dude talking with your outside voice on your Bluetooth. Yeah you. You know who you are. With your hip fucking sunglasses and overly product-filled hair. Shut the fuck up. This is a public bus. No one gives a shit or wants to listen to you babble about the new hot chick at work or how your backpacking trip to Amsterdam changed your life. 

The handicapped access ramp is for people in wheelchairs, old ladies with walkers, and Rascals only. It was not designed for you to board your shopping cart-sized basket containing all of your worldy possesions. Now I gotta sit here for five minutes while you ineptly maneuver your house through the aisle. Then I gotta shimmy my fat ass around said basket to get out. 

Point of clarification: I’m never upset if handicapped people have to get on or off the bus. They’re in a wheelchair. I’m not. Thank God. I have utmost empathy. I just which the loading ramp was faster. 

Hey strung-out tweaker on your way to the methadone clinic that verbally accosts the one-legged wheelchair lady for making you late. Shut your meth hole. You’ve got both of your legs. She doesn’t. She can’t help how long it takes for her to get on the bus. I know you’re totally jonesing for that body high, but you can walk. I’ll sacrifice two minutes of my time to be able to walk. You’ve made the conscious decision to kill yourself with drugs. Whose lifestyle is healthier, really? 

Hey, mom with two kids aged 4 months and 13 months. I know your life is hard and providing for your two little ones is demanding, exhausting, and soul-crushing. I understand. I really do. I sympathize. But is there some way you can get the kids to stop crying at the top of their lungs? I’m a bit hungover and my head hurts. Thanks.

Hey, dude that decides I am more interested in talking about nothing than reading the book into which I am obviously balls deep. Yes, this is Jurassic Park I’m reading. I’m aware that it was a good movie. No, I just never got around to reading it when I was younger. I’m not sure if it’s better than the movie. I’m only 30 pages in. Again, I have no judgment of the narrative as yet. I’m only 30 pages in. Shut up and let me read some of it and I’ll give my critique later. 

Hey, jagoff that sits in the aisle seat with an empty window seat while the rest of us are forced to stand in the aisle. Really? Are you really that unaware of your surroundings? Or do you just think you’re better than us? We’re all in this together. And this woman right here would like to sit down. Move your ass. 

Hey, wannabe gangster pumping Big Willie Style on your Discman. a.) You’re using a Discman. 2.) You’re listening to Will Smith circa 1998. d.) You’re useless. I would give you a little more respect if you were listening to 36 Chambers or The Score. But Big Willie Style?! Really? Your eardrums are much too precious to damage listening to Just The Two of Us. 

Hey, cute girl. You know you’re cute. I would really prefer if you sat next to me instead of the fat, sweaty guy that got on behind you. Keep walking back here. That’s it. The seat next to me is nice and cozy. I’m harmless. I’m showered. I’m respectful. And that fat guy is grossing me out already. There are only two seats left. You’re gonna be either next to me or Captain WarCraft [can't take credit for that name, unfortunately] in the trench coat. Oh, C’mon! You chose that kid? You gotta be kidding me! Oh, Christ. Now I have to listen to the labored breathing of this monster for 25 minutes.

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