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Posts Tagged ‘bus’

And so the countdown continues…  today is the last Tuesday of my transit commute and working at the circus.  Weeeeeee! To celebrate, let’s reflect on yet another random transit story.

Yesterday’s weather was pretty wishy-washy.  It started off as quite a warm day for December, although very windy and rainy.  Some where in between 9 and 5, the temperature literally dropped 10 degrees.  The wind never let up, so therefore, the commute home was, for lack of a better phrase, goddamn fucking freezing.

Since the day started off warm, all I had with me was a broken umbrella, and an ‘I’m in denial that it’s actually winter‘ coat.  The station that I wait for my last bus home is sort of covered, and sort of not.  It just so happens that the area where my bus stops gets a massive wind tunnel.  This resulted in about 100 people huddled together, trying to find the best direction to stand in order to block the freezing wind. I was at the front of the huddle, since I had missed the previous bus by a split second.  The wind was so crazy that my long hair actually stood up straight, as if I was being electrocuted. When it wasn’t standing up straight, it was flying into the faces and/or mouths of the people huddled around me. Lovely.

One dude beside me was a regular, as I’ve seen him many times on the way home. He had on a big, puffy warm coat.  I tried to use my super-strength mind power to get him to come and give me a big hug to keep me warm, but to no avail. I counted about 20 buses that entered the station that weren’t mine. Each time a bus would enter the station, the crowd would gasp with anticipation, and then let out a loud fuck/shit/crap/jesus/dammit sigh and hope that the next one would be ours.  Finally, the 32 entered the station and pulled up to the massive crowd.  

It’s interesting that every time I gain some faith in my fellow commuters, they always manage to let me down, big time.  The bus pulled up to us and suddenly everyone from behind started pushing. The bus driver caught on and refused to open the door.  

So picture this…  

I’m at the front of the crowd.  Therefore, I’m being pushed into a door that the driver won’t open. Finally, he gives in, and the herd pushes on. I practically flew onto the bus, and since the bastards kept on pushing, my purse got lodged in between a few of them.  It stopped me in my tracks, so I turned around and started yanking.  I snarled, but it wasn’t effective.  Then I resorted to,

‘Gimme my purse!’

The pack of dogs eventually let up. At the same time I yanked with all of my mighty muscle power, and I fell backwards onto the bus driver.  

‘Fucking savages,’ was the only thing I managed to blurt out.

I mean, what on earth do they think will be accomplished by acting like a bunch of wild animals?  Ya, it’s cold.  We’re all cold.  If these people would have acted in an orderly fashion, we would have piled onto the bus faster.  But, you know, this is too much to expect from big city slickers.   

Four.

More.

Days.

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I didn’t get a chance to post this before I left work, and good thing, since I had such a lovely experience on the way home… in that case, I’ll write about that first, and make this an ass-backwards post.

I’m having a bad day today, in general, hence the title.  So, if you don’t feel like hearing me complain, well, this is not the post for you. This is more about me venting, so as I don’t become institutionalized and whatnot.

Ugh.  I am so not made for this city.  I’m not rough or tough enough to take it. Many people love it here, and more power to them, but me, not so much anymore. Remember that song (from Sesame Street or the Muppets… something with puppets anyways),

‘One of these things just doesn’t belong?’

That one thing is me.

Some days I can deal, others, ugh. Today is that kind of day. I am happily awaiting my departure (and counting down the days with a vengeance), but it always seems that when you know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, time moves in slow ass motion.

Why can’t people just be nice and normal? Why? 

If I am walking through a doorway, I hold it for the next person, because, hey, I’m decent that way. If someone drops something, I stop and pick it up.  If I bump someone, I apologize.  If I see someone in dying need of a seat, I give mine up.  You know, normal, human nature type things. I’m a big karma believer, so no matter what, I’m still going to be decent, dammit. It’s obviously naive to expect the same treatment in return.  Sometimes though, I just want to scream at the top of my lungs, something to the effect of,

‘What is fucking WRONG with you people?!’

On the way home I held the door for the next person, only to get trampled by them. I picked up something an older woman dropped, only to get sworn at by a passerby for stopping in his way.  I waited patiently like everyone else for the bus, only to get elbowed and jabbed by those behind me (and since I believe in a little thing called, a line, I didn’t resort to jabbing and elbowing those ahead of me).  

I didn’t make it on that bus, since by the time those behind me pushed me around, it was packed to the max and I had to wait, defeated, for the next one. Luckily, the next one had more space, which meant a possible seat.  I made my way to a seat, only to be pushed out of the way by some overly stocky little lady with mix matched gloves. I mean, damn, if she needed the seat that badly I would have given it to her.

I don’t have it in me anymore to comment to these people.  There’s no point really. Nothing will change. I’ll stay the same, and so will they. It’s pretty sad that when someone holds the door open for me, or something of the sort, I generally gasp in amazement. It’s a rarity, but it does happen occasionally.  

Why is everyone in a rush to go nowhere fast?  

What is so important that you must trample people to get to your destination?  

What ever happened to enjoying life, or, to be cliche, ‘stop and smell the roses.’  

Don’t get me wrong, I would like to get home pronto, just like the rest of them, and I don’t stroll around with my head in the clouds like some kind of defect.  I just ask for common courtesy is all.  I realize that’s a lot to ask in such a big city. And, I realize not everyone is nasty – but I have no idea where those people are hiding. Come out, come out, where ever you are!  Please? For a day, even. Just one day. 

***********************

Earlier…  

Two posts in one day seems to be a common thing for me these days.  Mostly, because I am so bored I honestly believe I’m loosing what’s left of my mind.  When there’s no work for me, which is more often than not, I sit here, ‘looking busy.’ Writing posts on this thing contributes to that, so I suppose that explains why there have been so many lately.  If my computer screen didn’t face everyone, I’m sure I could find more entertaining things to do online, but it just so happens that’s the way this circus is set up.

Let’s reflect on what I’ve done today, to keep up my ‘looking busy’ status:

1. I often use my stapler.  Generally, there is nothing to staple, but the sound of it makes it seem like I’m doing something, when mostly, I’m not.  I randomly staple invisible documents.  It’s fun, you should try it.

2. I have a wide arrangement of open documents on my computer so that it looks like I have a lot going on. I occasionally open and close them, and sometimes, move them from one folder to another. 

3. Every once and a while it is effective to walk in the back, and give the impression that I’m looking for something.

4. Many washroom breaks.

5. E-books.

6. Staring at the clock and trying to will time to go by faster, with my super-strength mind power.  Lately, this power has been letting me down, big-time.

7. You’d be amazed at the wide variety of icons available for macs.

8. Sometimes I literally just stare at my screen, for minutes on end.  It’s too bad there is no window for me to glare out of, but alas, I am in a dungeon basement. How cool is that I upgraded from a storage closet at my last job, to a dark, chilly basement? Score.

Okay, I’m too annoyed to come up with more tricks.  I really do wonder when they might realize this situation.  I mean, it’s not rocket science, people.  Do the math. 

Now, I know what you’re thinking.  What’s up with this girl? I mean, she just sits around and does nothing.  She should be happy.  She should be grateful she has a job.  She should blah blah blah.  

Ya, well.  Blah, blah, blah back at you.  It just so happens that I actually want to work (wow, what a concept, I know), and due to contrary belief, I do have a lot to offer.  More, in fact, than this circus even knows about – but I have generally kept to myself about these things, because, well, I am leaving and I don’t see the point, really.  And even if they did know, I have little faith that it would benefit me in any way, shape or form.

Also, there are so many things about this place that scream dysfunctional (as with every job I’m sure – but right now, it’s my turn. Again, the title).  Anyhoo, I won’t actually state these things, as I still actually work here, and feel it’s inappropriate to completely bash the place (like I haven’t already) with gory details.  Although, this may change once I’m out of here.  Oh, and what a glorious day that will be.  It’s so soon I can taste it, and it tastes so sweet.  

*Note* As I wrote this, my coworker held her make-shift finger gun to her head and pulled the trigger. Thank god for allies with similar dispositions… what would we do without them?  This also confirms that it’s not just me that feels this way, and that makes me feel a little more sane, sort of.

And in my defense – I am happy to have a job and I actually don’t mind what I do (when I actually have something to do).  Just not at this particular place, and since it’s Monday, I am reminded that I have 4 more days of trying to look busy, before I can enjoy the weekend.  

I mean, if I got paid well to do nothing, then okay.  If I got paid shit but had a chance to advance or pursue opportunities, then okay.  If it was any of these things or not, but not a million hour commute, okay. There are so many more ‘ifs’ but again, I feel as though karma will bite my ass if I give too many details.

And yes, there are many worse things in life, in general, in the world etc etc.  But, you know, right now, at this very moment in time, this is what annoys me.  And this blog, this is my outlet, and thank god for that, because if I couldn’t write this stuff down, I would literally explode, and some poor sucker would have to clean it up.   

Alrighty, and this closes my bitch session for the day.  I promise to be in a better mood tomorrow, and think many happy thoughts.  In the meantime, I will sit for another 10 minutes and look busy until it’s time for me to jet. 

Bah. Hum. Bug.

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Originally I had planned to post something completely different… but too much happened on my way to work this morning to just not write about it.  

Ready, set…

So this morning as I stood on my first bus, I noticed a massive SUV pull up beside us.  This is a usual occurrence in my hood, as practically everyone and their damn dog has one (except for us poor and/or environmentally saavy folk – however you want to slice it is fine by me).

Anyhoo, so the tinted window on the passenger side slid down and I saw a professional looking middle aged woman in a suit.  I figured, maybe she needs fresh air, or maybe she’s going to have a smoke.  

Nope.  

None of the above.  

Instead, I saw her make that unmistakable face (I swear I felt like I could hear the sound) and then, a massive glob of spit flew out of her mouth.  

Classy.  

Very classy.  

It blows my mind that people are actually that disgusting.  I mean, have some self respect already.  Jesus. 

On my last bus, as I happily glared at Cash Money’s ass (another random transit crush), a regular came on and blocked my view.  

I was okay with it, eventually.  

Mainly because this dude was doing something hilarious that he obviously didn’t realize he was doing.  As he was talking with one of his buds, he was holding the pole.  He had gloves on so his hand kept slipping.  As it continued to slip, he moved it up and down, up, down, up, down… faster and faster.  

It honestly looked like he was beating off the pole.  

Yes, I have a dirty mind, okay.  And that might also be because I caught the South Park episode last night about how the kids learn sex-ed, and a similar action was a big part of it.  It took every single bit of morning pre-coffee strength for me not to burst out laughing.

Then, while ordering my coffee, a new Starbuck’s kid asked me a question.  He obviously isn’t aware of my horrid morning mood like the rest of them.  It went a little something like this:

Me: Hi.  Can I please have a Grande Americano with the extra shot.

Dude: Sure.  Nice ring.

M: *grunt* Thanks.

D: Where did you get it?

M: Which one?

D: The one on your thumb.

**This ring is super cool.  It’s black with silver designs on it.  It’s almost like 2 rings together, and you can twist the designs to make different ones.**

M:  Oh, I acquired it, sort of… ya.

D:  Really? How?

M:  It’s a long story.

D:  So… what’s the story?

M:  Okay, well, some random dude gave it to me.

D:  Random dude?

M:  Yep.

D:  What do you mean?

I’m totally annoyed at this point.  Seriously.  Gimme my coffee and shut the F up. Like I said, not a morning person, not at all.

M:  Well, I met some dude who worked at a bar, who turned out to know my friend through family.  I told him I liked his ring.  He gave it to me. 

D: WOW. That’s amazing!!

M: Uh… okay.  Sure. 

D:  Ya, I mean, like, who does that?

M:  Apparently that dude.

D: Wow! That’s soooo cool. You must be really, like, special and stuff.

M: *Grunt/laugh*  Ya, I guess.  

D:  Awesome!

M: Alrighty. Coffee. Need. Now.

I really can’t handle overly excited and happy people in the morning… I really can’t.  

That little conversation reminded me that not only have I acquired the majority of junk in my apartment, but also, my accessories. Rock on… er, or shall I say, acquire on.  

Yep.

And that’s the kind of day it’s been, this Wednesday, December 3, 2008.

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I have issues with personal space.  Some days I can handle it, some days, not so much. Today is one of those days.  

While I was waiting for my last bus today, in the army style line up, I noticed the woman behind me sneaking closer, baby step by baby step.  I could tell because I could see her shadow.  She was reading the paper, and at one point it grazed my hair.  There’s tons of space.

Tons.  

I thought, ‘What’s up with this chick standing right on my ass?! Goddamn, I’m really not in the mood.  I can smell her coffee breath. Gross. Did her paper just touch my hair? What the f. MOVE.’

So, I played a little game.  

I moved up.  

She moved up.  

I moved up.  

She moved up.  

I moved sideways.

She moved sort of beside me.  

I moved up.  

She sneezed in my hair.  

In.

My.

Hair.  

She didn’t even cover her mouth.

Gross. What on earth is wrong with people?  

As far as I’m aware, my hair does not resemble a box of Kleenex.  I mean, even if she didn’t have time to cover her mouth, she could have at least turned her head slightly so her bodily fluids landed on the pavement rather than in my hair.  

Imagine the consideration.  I made sure to shoot her dirty looks and sat far from her.  I didn’t have the caffeine intake or patience to say anything, and even if I did, it wouldn’t have done any good really.

So, I scored a sweet bus seat, and an older woman plopped down beside me.  I say, ‘plopped’ because she entered the seat blindly, with the hopes of landing in her spot, but instead her butt landed on part of my leg.  After she shimmied over, she continued to check her watch 7 times.  

I counted.  

The reason I noticed was because every time she checked, she took off her glove and elbowed me in the side.  

Every time.  

Glove On. Glove Off. Glove On. Glove Off. Glove On. Glove Off.  

I was sitting beside the wall, so there was no where for me to move.  I was literally sitting sort of sideways and pressed up against the window, with the hopes her poking would stop.  Nah.

Whenever I have days like this, I think of that Seinfeld episode when Elaine gets stuck on the subway as she is on her way to a wedding.  She totally freaks out – whether it’s a good thing or not, I’m exactly the same. Sometimes I just want to scream at the top of my lungs and literally knock some sense into my fellow transit commuters.  

Instead, for now, I suppose I will settle for overly obvious eye rolls, shoulder checks, and the occasional swift tackle.  

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So, last night was the first snowfall of the season (excuse me while I vomit – yes, I’m a mean one, Mr. Grinch – and loath winter and winter related activities).  

Anyhoo, I’m going to take action and declare a national holiday, which will take part on the first snowfall of the year.  I mean, there’s a holiday for everything else, right? Last year Canada declared some day in February ‘Family Day’ since there was no holiday that month.  Don’t get me wrong – I’m not complaining, I’ll take any holiday I can get.  But then I’d like to create one too.  

How do they decide?

I can see it now:  “Hey, you.  Pick a holiday, er… and stuff, eh?”

Why, for the first snowfall you ask?

Well, it’s almost guaranteed that a switch goes off the first time it snows, and people become complete morons (myself included). They forget how to drive, walk, and generally function as Canadians.  I mean, it happens every year people, and yet still, complete chaos takes over.  

Let’s use myself as a perfect example.  

This morning I woke up confused (mainly because I was out late – which is not common for me during the week) and fully clothed on my couch.  I rushed to get ready and magically somehow still made it out the door at my regular time, not taking into account a fresh coat of that yucky white stuff that blanketed the streets and sidewalks.  I noticed the bus approaching the stop, and like any other day, started to sprint uphill to catch it.  For about 5 seconds it seemed as if I was on a treadmill – going nowhere fast.  

And then, splat. Right in the slushy goodness.

Awesome.  

I figured Mr. Bus Driver would have laughed and kept going, but Karma seemed to be on my side, so instead he waited for me to pick my clumsy moron ass up and get on the bus.  To add to my glorious chilly, wet, morning, my commute increased to 2 hours, and will undoubtedly be the same on the way home.  

Hooray for winter. 

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‘Tis the season for winter coats.  As much as I absolutely loath winter (I can’t stress that enough, seriously), I do find joy, and mostly comfort, in a warm and toasty yet stylish winter coat.  Since big city slickers like to blend into, I don’t know, the concrete, with their huge colour selection of black, grey and the occasional brown, I try and mix it up with a different colour.  

Now, I’m not a complete coat snob (coffee snob – yes, coat snob – sorta), since I do own a black coat that gets plenty of wear of those nasty snowy/rainy days, or days where I feel my clumsyness oozing out and ready to strike with a fresh stain of whatever I get my hands on.

I just enjoy being different. I am an artist, remember. It’s imperative that I wear something different than everyone else, be it a piece of jewelry, (I sport a pretty sweet domino around my neck…always), a cool hat, or a funky something or other.  So, you know, stand out a little but not too much. Story of my life.

Where was I going with that?

Oh, yeah.

Winter.  Hate it.  Cold.  Coats.

My most favourite winter coat ever was a baby blue peacoat.  I wore it so much (and didn’t take care of it properly) that the lining is now literally in shreds, and not surprisingly still hanging in my closet, with the hopes that someday it will magically repair itself and/or I get off my lazy ass and get it fixed.  

Last year my coat was white and pretty damn awesome, but definitely not warm enough for my island-lovin’ blood.  So this year, thanks to mummy dearest (because you know, artist = broke-ass), I acquired a pretty sweet warm long white coat.  It’s a beauty. I was in the market for a red one, but hey, what can you do? No complaints here.  

There is definitely some serious thought that goes into wearing white. Especially with me, since I tend to spill or drop anything and everything (pretty much a guarantee here) and although this post may make me seem like some kind of high maintenance city slicker, I’m really anything but.  So for that reason, I carry a trusty OxyClean ToGo (much more effective than TideToGo, take my word for it) in my purse at all times, ready for that special embarrassing moment.  I noticed that when I wear this coat, I’m much more cautious of what’s going on around me, because, well, in all honesty, I can’t afford to buy another one.

Yesterday on my first bus, I chose to stand rather than sit next to a stinky man with a stinky backpack, so that the retched thing (the man and the backpack) didn’t touch me, and most importantly, my coat.  On my last bus, I scored a sweet seat and bounced to my tunage as the bus filled up to the rim. Of course, Girl-Who-Shouldn’t-Be-on-Transit-with-a-Beverage, stood directly overtop of me.  She loosely held the pole with one hand, and her napkin wrapped coffee cup with the other. This particular station the bus leaves from is full of twists and turns, so as it happened, of course, Girl-Who-Shouldn’t-Be-on-Transit-with-a-Beverage, twisted and turned with the bus.  At one of the twists a glob of coffee escaped, in slow motion, and missed my white beauty by a millimeter.  I gave her a look that said, 

‘You are soooo damn lucky that didn’t land on me and if you try and pull a stunt like that again it will be the last coffee you ever drink.’  

Apparently she understood, and held her coffee away from my coat.  Good. I’m glad my looks are readable, and I don’t have to subject myself as being know as ‘that crazy one’ on transit, mostly.  Only time will tell.

 

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So today I hopped on the bus and scored a sweet seat beside some random teenager.  I saw him fiddling with something but was in too much a zombie sleepwalk to really notice or care.  Then, over my rockin’ tunage I heard clicking sounds.  I glanced over and recognized that crazy coloured cube from back in the day.  

 

Who knew that even in our crazy technological savvy world, the Rubik’s Cube would still entice a teenybopper?  I remember the first time I ever saw one of those.  I was at school when a friend gave it to me to try, and double dog-dared me to solve the colourful puzzle.

 No problem, I thought.  That’s easy.  

I remember twisting and turning the squares for probably about 5 minutes until I got fed up.  I left for recess and came back with the puzzle solved. Everyone thought it was incredible that I could figure it out, and of course, I let them believe it.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, after I realized that I could never, ever, ever possess the patience to sit with this stupid cube and match all of the colours, I hid on the playground and took off every single little coloured sticker and strategically placed them back on so that the puzzle was solved.

Brilliant.

Leave it to me to take the easy way out.  Eventually, people caught onto my little trick.  Oh well, my artificial brilliance was good while it lasted.  

Back on the bus, Smarty Pants had solved the Rubik’s Cube (the ‘correct’ way) by the time we pulled into the station.  Damn.  

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