bus tale number 3235


(not my bus #, FYI)

He got on the bus, stomping his feet dramatically. Fluorescent pink t-shirt and matching skateboard deck. Not happy, apparently.

He flopped down in the seat directly behind mine. Why? The entire upper deck of the bus was free except for me, MMA guy, and the three sluts at the front.

Then, I don’t know what the hell he was doing but there was a lot of noise that sounded like the skateboard was having a seizure on the floor, which, because we were on the top floor of the bus, echoes obnoxiously.

Maybe he was practicing his ollie? I didn’t want to turn around and look because whatever it was sounded aggressive and I didn’t want to be murdered and burned like that girl…yes, this was my train of thought. Clearly my risk of being murdered and burned has increased since it happened to somebody else recently, right?

Two guys with armloads of alcohol got on the bus. They came upstairs and sat all the way in the back. I hoped they wouldn’t open any of those beers.

I hate it when people drink beer on the bus. It stinks and causes drama. It also makes me an unwilling accomplice, because I don’t tell on them like some kind of square. What they don’t know is a big part of me wants to, even though it’s none of my business.

One time a guy sat in front of me on a full bus and smoked a joint. I could not believe my eyes. Nobody said anything to him.

Two stops later the guys with the alcohol rang the bell. The one with arms full of beer said “I just have to navigate my ass down these steps and we’re home free” and I almost laughed out loud. It really struck me as funny. Maybe I was just tired.

Ten minutes later a cell phone rings. MMA guy answers and his speech is a parody of Stallone in a Rocky movie, garbley and full of steroid-fueled machismo. He probably just finished working out with seven of his bros at gator’s gym or something. His volume was dialed up to 11.

“YAH? YOU WATCHIN’ THE FIGHTS TONIGHT? Huh. FUCK YEAH. WHERE YOU AT BRO? CAN Y…FUCK, MAN. I’M ON THE BUS. I DUNNO. I’M BY MCDONALDS OR SOME SHIT. PICK ME UP.
NO. IT’S A LONG WALK. FUCK. DON’T FUCKING ARGUE WITH ME. FUCK YOU…” etc.

I could see my stop coming up and pushed the button over my head to ring the bell and started “navigating my ass” down the aisle toward the stairs. After a prolonged silence, skateboard guy slammed his board down, hard. I still didn’t look, but as I made my descent I heard MMA guy say “DUDE SHUT THE FUCK UP” and I kind of wished my stop was five minutes later so I could see how it played out.

Once I stepped outside though I was relieved.

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