Wesley On The Bus

Buses at my school come in all different sizes and styles each with its own unique bus riding experience.  Some buses have the standard “school bus” two-seaters but with seats on the left and right walls (which face each other as opposed to a standard bus seat which faces forward) to allow more passengers the opportunity to stand.  Others have seats just along the sidewalls allowing for maximum standing room.  And others, which I call the Connector Buses, have two-seaters, sidewall seats and 4 special swivel seats in the middle-connection part of the bus that swivel when the bus turns.  These swivel seats give people an unexplainable euphoria usually reserved for conquering the world in an 8-hour game of Risk.

Now, when one walks onto a bus, the choice of seat is often limited because rarely is anyone the first person on the bus.  People get on and off all over the place and may have to ride from the first stop of one campus to the last stop of another.  For purpose of example, I have chosen a window seat on a relatively empty Connector Bus two rows from the swivel chairs with an empty seat next to me.  Let the fun begin.

On the first stop, the bus fills up almost immediately and I have 15 more minutes till I arrive at my destination when all hell breaks loose.  A swivel chair opens and two people dash for it; the smaller of the two being victorious.

No longer am I riding solo either.  I now have a riding buddy and he has chosen to show the ultimate disrespect.  Instead of properly sitting in the seat, he leaves his legs in the aisle and gives me his book bag.  My right arm is trapped like I’m in a Cross Face Chicken Wing (Definition) and I can’t help but disturb him when reaching into my pocket for my vibrating phone.  He glances back arrogantly and I give him the look that says, “You’ve brought this upon yourself jackass; now move your 8 year old L.L. Bean initialed bag off my arm.  You’re 19 for goodness sake: Get a new fucking bag!”

Out of the corner of my eye I catch this poor soul having his day ruined by a tag team of riders.  You know when you get up at a crowded sporting event, movie or opera and you have to shimmy through the row with either your ass or crotch uncomfortably close to other spectators?  Well this guy could not have had it worse.  Every time he looks right he is staring directly into this dude’s crotch and every time he goes left he’s got this other guy trying to tie his shoe with his ass in the air.  Mentally I was trying to pass the message, “Just close your eyes and pretend to be asleep.”

Although not as important as the seating arrangements at your aunt’s third wedding, those 20 minutes spent on the bus can make or break a rider’s next 24 hours.  An eyeful of crotch, ass or a stint in the Crippler Cross-Face (Definition) surely make the night’s choice between a simple 6 pack of Bud or a bottle of Jack that much easier.