I jut got off a jam packed 71A. After all the bus cuts have settled, this route runs at 30% of its former frequency. Three times an hour versus ten. The bus was always a full one, and now that it is cold and rainy my morning ride was a wonder to behold. Perhaps there were smaller people on this ride or something, because I just know there were way more riders than usual. They were crammed in the doorways, clutching each other on the steps, pinned against each other between seats.
My good friend Patsy often points out that she hates exiting a full bus like that because she has to rub up against the private parts of the other passengers as she finagles down the aisle. Nobody is immune. Nobody is safe!
But one grumpy lady, wearing a sequined red hat and a holiday sweater with a smiling reindeer, thought nobody should touch her. She had an aisle seat near the front and as students entered the bus, she screamed at them. "Get that backpack off of my head! You are so disrespectful! Take it off!"
One rider looked amazed and apologized. "My gosh! I'm so sorry. It was an accident." He took the bag off and held it at leg level.
"Don't go hitting it off my leg, either!"
The poor boy looked horrified, not knowing what to do. His friend stepped in to help. "Lady," this dude said, "there are like 400 people on this bus. You are going to get bumped." Everyone around me made approving faces, silently encouraging this brave rebuttal. The two guys exited at 5th and Craig.
Another tiny little red haired person got on the bus, struggling under a zillion chemistry books. Her boyfriend helped to stabilize her on the rocking bus. The lady bellowed again. "Get those books away from me! Get 'em down! Down!" The couple really didn't know what to do. They kind of looked at each other and ignored her.
I wish so badly that as I squeezed past her two stops later, at Bigelow, that I had displeased her. I had the scene all planned out in my head. I would stomp on her foot and then I would have said, "Shut the hell up! You are not being persecuted!"
But I am a rugby player, well versed in evasive running. I can slide out of the 71A without anyone noticing and never once bump a penis, let alone a grumpy sequin hag.
After years of nomadic temporary employment, advanced degrees, and chocolate ice cream, a rugger with a love of knitting and a cyclist with no domestic skills signed a Ketubah and bought a house in Pittsburgh.
3 comments:
I swear I encountered this woman while once trying to enter a very crowded 61A. I was in the process of turning around and exiting the bus to wait for a less crowded one, and this hag was pressing against me snarling about my bookbag. "I hate this bookbag! Get it down! Move!" Then she had the nerve to shove past me in the narrow stairwell, past several others in front of me trying to negotiate the crowd. All I could think to say in response before I exited in a rage was, "Lady, you're abhorrent!"
I would like to give an approving shout-out to the "acute angle" pun in the comments of the previous post. That was awesome.
How come no ome says "the chick with blond hair" or "that brunette" now I know how black people feel when you say "that black guy"... we're more than just red heads...
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