Ooooo, that smell!

Well, I had a seat this morning, which was better than yesterday. The gang was all there; Rocker Dude, The Mask. I sat next to The Mask, who was in the process of final touchup. Still a bit squished to bring out my crossword, so I resigned myself to sitting and half-dozing. This black man came on the bus and made his way to the back. He REEKED of cologne. Don't know who he was trying to impress, but he just plain stunk to high heaven. I gagged, it was that bad. I had to breathe through my nose for much of the way downtown. I was sure grateful when he got off, let me tell you!

Standing on the Bus...

Sometimes it's just one of those days. I had to stand on the bus all the way in this morning. The bus before mine never showed, so it had all those passengers as well as us. Wonderful! This is one of those days that you wonder if your underarm deodorant truly works. I actually panicked a teeny bit, because as the bus was coming toward me, the bike rack was down, and blended in perfectly (with my myopic vision) with the black bumper. As it was, I was able to climb aboard. Wish I had just waited for the next bus. My right arm ached from all the blood running out of it trying to find a handhold so I wouldn't be dashed to the floor of the coach. Hopefully the rest of the day is better!

Happy Baby

This morning on the way into work there was a very happy baby and he put me in a good mood. Thank you happy baby.
bus rides = entertainment. Patrick.

I also answer to being called Kevin

Last summer on the way home from work I boarded the bus which was standing room only. I was standing with another woman at the rear door and leaned against the wall expecting to ride the 20 to 30 minutes home standing. It was quite noisy on the bus with all the regular people chatting about everything under the sun. I made some small talk with the woman I was sharing the aisle with but kept hearing a woman at the back of the bus shouting, "Kevin" over and over and over. I paid little attention but thought to myself why is Kevin not responding to this woman. If I could hear her he should be able to hear her as well. I finally turned around to check out the situation and a regular rider waved to us saying there were seats in the very back. I offered the lady first choice and followed her to the back. I asked her if she was calling me and she responded yes. I smiled and said that's great but my name isn't Kevin it's Patrick. Her quick response was, "well I knew it was something Irish", which elicited a roar of laughter from several folks at the back of the bus. She wasn't to happy about the laughter but I assured her it was fine and I thought it was hilarious. The woman no longer rides the bus downtown but I will always remember her for this bit of comedy.
To this day I still get teased about being called Kevin. A few of the regular riders jokingly call me Kevin as I was reminded of this past Monday by a regular who pointed out a seat at the rear next to her.
Bus rides = entertainment. Patrick

Orange and Postal Day!!

Here is a colorful lady that was on the bus this morning...

Her coat was made of "eyelash" material, or something very close. Very eye-opening!

Onto later events, I finally got a bit of revenge upon the mail person this morning. He has got to be the most nastiest person ever, and I've never done anything to warrant it. I was taking my bicycle into the freight elevator, and he tried to cram his damn basket into the elevator with me. The doors started to close, and I made an automatic, albeit half-hearted attempt to open the doors. But they closed in his face. Revenge is mine, sayeth the Lord!!

Newbies on the Bus...

Occasionally you see people who have never ridden on the bus. Rare, but it happens. We all have to start sometime, right? Well, the two women who rode the bus last night were like children in a candy store. The one in the corner has rode before, but her companion had not. Very loud and enthusiastic, these too. And the one had the most annoying laugh I've heard in a while - long and drawn out to remarks that I never thought were funny. Guess it takes all kinds to make the world go round.

Steak Knife

The bus was crowded this morning but one of my regular bus friends called me back to the back of the bus as there was a seat next to her. "I thought I heard someone calling me," I said. We were chatting about the weekend weather and other things when she brought to my attention an old man with a steak knife next to him. He woke from his nap shortly afterward and put the steak knife into his cargo pant pocket and exited the bus. We looked at each other and wondered....
bus rides = entertainment. Patrick.

Crazy man

I came across an old journal entry the other day and thought I'd publish it. This incident was on a very crowded rush hour bus back in 2005. This crazy man kept repeating loudly, "Willie Nelson Mandela", which was cracking me up. It's actually cleaver in a way to put two well-known names together.
Bus rides = entertainment. Patrick.

Old Men - Old Transfers

The bus ride home last evening was interesting. I had stayed late at work and took a 7:55 p.m. bus which was quite empty. A few miles up we picked up a real drunk old man who reeked of beer and stumbled with his fare and then to his seat. All I can say is thankfully he wasn't driving. We picked up another old man who was having difficulty with his transfer - it wouldn't scan. The driver asked to see the transfer and declared that this is September and your transfer is from August. He proceeded to dig around in his pockets and his wallet but didn't come up with a fare so the driver stopped to let him off. She received a phone call so didn't take off right away and wouldn't you know it the old man came back on with another transfer. A what do you think happened? It too was expired and he exited the bus. Another passenger and I chuckled at this little display and he exclaimed, "I want to know why he keeps all those old transfers?" All I can think of was that this man suffered from transfer hoarding syndrome.
Bus rides = entertainment. Patrick.

Make sure you want the bus you're boarding

Last week at approximately 5:40 p.m. the bus driver asks a man boarding with a bike if he is crossing 8 mile (the city limits) because he can't let anyone off in the city until after 6:00 p.m. (I'm assuming it's an agreement with the city buses). The man answers yes and pays his fare. We stop to pickup some passengers near 6 mile and the man runs up to the front and tries to exit the bus but the driver won't let him. The guy is ticked off but sits back down and later made an attempt again. Some folks just want the rules broken for them.
bus rides = entertainment. Patrick.

Nice and quiet - then boom!

I finally dragged my sorry ass out of bed in time to catch the Gratiot Limited. I boarded and found a seat in the rear and cracked the window. It was nice and quiet so I dragged out my book I've been trying to finish for a while and started to read. After about fifteen minutes or so I hear this booming female voice from behind me talking to one of the regular guys. When I say booming I mean it - she could fill the Fox Theatre with just her talking voice and shake the rafters. Maybe she is a speaker or singer but obviously has no sense of what an indoor voice is. Needless to say it was so distracting I had to put away the book. She had to nerve to talk about the most mundane items too - the nerve of her. If I have to passively listen in on her conversation at least she could make it a little juicy, salacious and intersting.
bus rides = entertainment. Patrick.

Not so much Bus, as Bums today...

Today I decided to get off on Woodward, as I had to go to the bank. I met up with a homeless guy who asked me if I could help him out with something for food. I automatically said, "Sorry, I don't have anything." But as I passed him and walked up towards the bank, I started feeling a bit guilty, as I obviously had something (in the form of my lunch bag) and still didn't give him anything. I didn't recognize him, or else I would not have given him the time of day. So as I wandered on back towards my building, I resolved to offer him my lunch at least. As I came up to him, he was asking someone else for help. I caught his attention, and offered my sandwich. Would you believe that bum said, "No thanks."? It's people like him that make you not want to help anyone at all. He probably wanted money for booze or something.