I’m not a huge stickler for etiquette since I rarely, if ever, adhere to the guidelines that Emily Post postulates. Needless to say, since I’ve given myself full license to be ironic with the disclaimer in my initial post, I’m going to dedicate today’s blog post to etiquette. More specifically bus etiquette since I am confined in a mobile metal coffin hurtling northbound on 95. Here’s a description of the other souls in my transportation tomb:
My current seat mate is Kara. I lived with Kara last year and she is a sparkling example of good etiquette. Let’s break it down. I told Kara I’d pick her up at 7:40 this morning. She was outside, waiting for me, at 7:40. Even though I broke our pact by showing up at 7:43 (being late is a huge failure for me, that I will get into in a second), Kara was still waiting with snacks and a happy smile. Kara is wonderful. Kara could never piss me off, which is probably why this is the last you’ll hear of her in my blog.
Sidenote—reason for my late arrival: I was all set to leave my house at 7:20 (leaving ample time for traffic on 193) when I witnessed what every commuter hates to see in the morning: a thick coating of Mother Nature’s lady juice frozen on my windshield. That’s right—frost! With a barrage of obscenities, I scraped my windshields with more force than Luke could ever have with him. Five terrible minutes later, I was on my way to College Park.
Which brings me back to where I am now: Northern Jersey. That’s a separate blog post for another day. Then again, that’s just what the world needs—another Jersey hater. I may be a lot of things but ‘topical’, ‘hip’ and ‘current’ are none of them. Here is the dramatis personae of Bolt Bus:
-Hipster with headphones playing Indie music too loud: Seriously? I don’t care that you listen to new edgy music. I don’t want to listen to it though. I’m happy listening to my artificial Ke$ha. Keep your damn volume down because it makes you presumptuous.
-Person with tuberculosis: stop coughing and sniffling. I don’t believe in germs but my ears work just fine. Like Indie guy, I just don’t want to hear it. It’s gross and sounds like you have the black lung. I know I’m being picky, but I’m irritated and afraid of being in the line of your mucous fire.
-Person snoring AND wearing an eye mask. Wow, an eye mask? Sorry you can’t exist in a world with sunlight. Maybe if you knew you were going to be so tired on a morning bus that you couldn’t sleep otherwise, you should have booked a later bus. Just saying. Also, stop snoring. I want to put my leftover hashbrowns in your gaping expanse of a mouth to see if you’d notice. Or hopefully choke and die to end that buzzsaw racket.
I’m aware I’m being ridiculous. It’s a bus and I’m (just kidding, my company) is paying only $20 for a trip to New York. Of course I’m glad I’m not driving. The truth is, I have problems with people who don’t behave as well as I behave. Then, I have to be confined with these cretins for four hours. I kept my music down and I have a doctor’s note clearing me for bus travel. If only BoltBus would cater to the tiny, curly haired contingent who kept to themselves and ate quietly. Oh, and kept their phones on vibrate. I’m talking to you, girl with the William Tell overture ringtone. I heard you. At least it’s not a smut tone.
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