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The Bus

I like riding the bus.

Sure, there are lots of crazies on there, and sure, I should probably invest in pepper spray, and sure, it takes twice as long to get anywhere, and sure, the bus schedule is insane, but I like it.

Gas prices are ridiculous. (So are bus pass prices, let’s face it. But I got a free one-year pass with my tuition at school, and since I got a full scholarship, it’s a great deal!) Traffic is stupid, and makes me angry. Anyone who’s driven with me can attest to that. So taking the bus to work every day gives me a break. I can sit in the back with a book, my iPod, and the occasional bag of chips I smuggled on in my purse, and just relax. I don’t have to worry about the time, because no matter what I do, I’m not going to get to work faster. I don’t have to worry about how fast we’re going, because I’m not getting a ticket. I don’t have to worry about traffic laws or anything. All I have to worry about is if that guy across the aisle from me is thinking what I think he’s thinking, and what I have on me that I could use as a weapon if he is.

Today, on my way to work, I noticed about 5 business I didn’t know existed. I’ve taken the same way to work every day for the past four months, and only today did I put down my book and look out the window, to notice how pretty the bank is. I watched people in cars on their way to the mall, to work, to school, to home, and thought of what they must be like. I realized that everyone has a story that needs to be told, that I’m blind if I think I have nothing to write about. The man with his dry cleaning hanging in his back seat and his radio tuned to 99.5 looked heartbroken. I think his wife died at Christmastime in past years, and the snow always reminds him of her. The man with the rubber gloves and the surgical mask on is a germaphob who also has a skin condition where he’s allergic to the light. Things like that.

I think I’ll keep riding the bus, even when I don’t need to.

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