Have you ever sat next to someone on the bus who you just want to punch in the face, but refrain either because a) you don't want your mug shot showing up on the 6 o'clock news, or b) it's just not nice? Today the thought crossed my mind. The lady sitting next to me decided the bus ride home was the best time to go through her ring tones and find a new tune to hear when her daughter calls (which is probably never because she looks mega boring and talks to herself). I get that on the bus you have all the time in the world to accomplish the things you keep putting off, but now is just not the time to subject everyone to hearing beep beeps to the tune of Ten Little Indians. Why don't you join in with your fellow elders and bust open a cheesy romance novel with a Fabioesque man on the cover.


Or better yet, take a nap like Mrs. Wrinkles there in the back. Sure she smells, but if you sit towards the front then you hardly notice. Which, while I'm on the subject, is more than I can say for the others.

I ride with nice enough folk in the morning: men in business suits, ladies talking about the weather. How is it that these people are never on my bus ride home?! It seems no matter which time I leave, I never catch the morning-folk on the ride back. How in the world can the evening-folk smell like corned beef and rotten eggs? And don't get me started on the g-pa (I use this word in the exact way it should be used) who looks eerily similar to Charlie Bucket's grandpa except chooses to wear sagging yellow wind pants, Timberland shoes, and an oversized puffer coat. Seriously, what seventy year man even knows these clothes exist?

Who would have thought that I could have rambled on and on about the bus? Don't get me wrong, this is a far better class of people than those you'll find on the Lincoln buses, but it doesn't take much to beat those Lincolnites. I just never thought I'd see a 70-year-old thug. At least the bus leaves me with stories to tell instead of ranting about the traffic if I chose to drive to work instead.