I ride the bus everyday to and from work. I enjoy not having to deal with the traffic myself, or search for reasonable parking day after day, or the wear and tear on my car. It also gives me the opportunity to catch up on my reading. What I could do without are all the other people who ride the bus.
There are days when my bus is packed with riders, other times, not so much. During these latter times I often find myself sitting next to somebody. I cannot explain why this person decided to sit next to me with plenty of seats unoccupied. Nor can I explain why this person is always overweight and has awful B.O. (I’m sure the overweight has something to do with the B.O.) They may feel that one more row is just too far back for their fat ass to walk.
If it weren’t enough for this sloppy bastard to assault my nasal cavity, I often end up too close to the assbag who can’t wait 15 minutes to make a phone call. Being one of like seven people who don’t own an iPod, I am forced to listen to every sound around me, unfortunately I can’t hear the other sounds over the obnoxious voice of this jerk-off talking to his jerk-off friend about jerking off, or some such shit. Couldn’t you have finished this conversation in the elevator?
The bus I take has two stops, with about 98% of the passengers getting off at the second stop, which means I am stuck with these fucktards the entire trip. Argh!
Since almost everyone is getting off at the same stop, and there are two rows of seats, none of those wacky sideway seats, there is a rhythm to the exit strategy. It is a routine that was taught in grade school and practiced well throughout middle school high school, mainly on every field trip. You start with the first seat on the driver’s side then the first seat on the passenger’s side then the second seat on the driver’s side then second on the passenger’s side. Continue this pattern until the bus is empty. If you haven’t learned this by the time you reach your late 20s or early 30s you must have some sort of learning problem.
A lot of people who ride my bus have a learning problem. There’s not one week where some buttfor (pooping silly) doesn’t come barreling down the aisle from the rear of the bus, disregarding this field trip exit protocol. If you wanted off so badly you should have gotten on the bus sooner, ass.
I guess this is the price I pay when I save on gas.
See ya the bus depot . . .
23 Sep 2008 Lee S. Hart