The people on the bus

Every weekday, between the times of 7:30 and 7:45, I am waiting for the bus to work. I can catch either the 7:32, the 7:37, or the 7:47 (these are approximate times; anyone who's ridden the bus or most any form of public transportation can tell you that it'll get there when it wants to get there) from the stop that's right across the street from my apartment. The bus winds down the east side of Queen Anne hill, by the Seattle Center, and through downtown on Third Avenue. In the mornings, the bus slowly fills with professionals, until we get to Third and the Ride-Free Zone, where it's free game and who knows what or who you'll sit next to. One time I sat next to a girl who had a squirrel in a cage. She said they made nice pets.

Anyways, since I am always on one of three buses, I see the same people over and over. In a perfect world, these people would all be charming and we'd all become friends. Or at least, we could be friendly, since we're all neighbors. In this modern world, though, we mainly avoid eye contact by reading, or avoid the chance of conversation by listening to Ipods. Most people are fairly indistinguishable, so I mainly recognize them as "nice-looking guy who carries a messenger bag" or "well-dressed girl who never reads or listens to music, just sits and stares straight ahead." There is "over-dressed girl who cannot ride a bus for even five minutes without calling someone on her cell phone." There was "chubby woman who always got on with a full two-liter soft drink," but I haven't seen her in awhile. There's "woman with cute baby who doesn't wear wedding ring."

Mainly I read on the bus, so sometimes I worry that these people see me as the girl who takes a whole week to read Time Magazine (sometimes the bus is the only place I have time to read it!) or judge me based on the book I am carrying. I am sure no one cares.

But the point of the entry is that there are a few people I wonder about on the bus more than others:
1. The woman who's gotta be first on the bus, no matter what
This woman gets on at my bus stop. She's probably in her 40's, and to be perfectly frank, is the kind of fat person who looks like their fatness has just made them mean. I picture her living alone, wishing misery on everyone and only having affection for something like a bird or a cat. When she gets to the bus stop, she just stares up the hill, looking for the bus. As soon as she sees it, she goes to the very edge of the sidewalk, and blocks out everyone else so that she can be the first one on. Even if she's the last one to the stop, she'll push her way up there, even though there's sort of an unspoken agreement at bus stops that we load in the order we got there. I've seen her butt in line. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd kick small children out of the way to get on that bus.

The thing I just don't understand about it though, is that the seat she wants is almost always open. Most people go for the forward facing seat, but she wants a sideways seat that's right behind the driver. There's always always always a seat there by the time the bus gets to us. Does she think that we all want that seat? She does get off the bus fairly early, so I can see how that seat is convenient for her, but sometimes I just want to shake her and ask why that seat is so fricking important. It might just be all she has in her life though so I probably shouldn't get too worked up about it.

2. The negligent father
This guy gets on a few stops after me, with a little girl who's somewhere in the range of 3-5 years old (she could be small for her age, or maybe the guy doesn't feed her). The dad can't be any older than like 23 or 24. This guy was definitely forced into adulthood by this kid, and seems to take out his resentment about it on his daughter every day.

Here are some conversations I have heard this guy have:

Stranger making conversation: What a pretty little girl! I bet she's the most important thing in your life!
Superdad: Well, she's up there, but I don't think she's the most important. I don't see it like that. I mean, I gotta take care of me first.
Stranger making conversation: (Falls into awkward silence)

Superdad (to little girl): Why didn't you brush your hair?
Little girl: I left my brush at the apartment.
Superdad: Well that was stupid. You have to start remembering your things. I have enough things to remember without remembering your things.

Another thing this guy does frequently is listen to music even though the little kid is talking to him. Sometimes he'll have the decency to at least take one earbud out to listen to her, but he spends most of the ride mouthing lyrics while the little girl careens around the bus. Another treasured memory is when this girl got on with them, must be a new girlfriend, and she was trying to make conversation with the little girl, thinking this might be the way to this guy's heart (big mistake). The guy was oblivious, then he gave the woman the little girl's snack. "Don't worry," he said. "She just had breakfast."

They get off the bus at Pine, which is fairly crowded, and cross the street. The guy doesn't adjust his steps to help the kid. Instead, she runs after him, reaching up for his hand, while he walks on, listening to his Ipod.

3. The smoker
This guy gets on in the Ride-Free Zone, and always smells like smoke in a very intense way. Like maybe he's been sleeping in a cigarette or something. I dread having to sit next to this guy, but am always interested in his reading material. It's always something obscure and scholarly, or it looks like a pamphlet an anarchist would put together. Today he was reading something in Arabic. He's gotta be in his 70's or 80's. Where does he go? I am thinking maybe to the hospital, but why does he go everyday? Is he just riding the bus around to read? Where does he get all these books? He has a money-is-tight look about him. How many cigarettes do you have to smoke to smell like that?