More Bus Rules; or I’ll Take the Bus, You Take the Streets, and We’ll Have This Place Running Properly in No Time

Here it is, the end of the week already, and the excitement is palpable. Will the downstairs neighbors continue their late-night guitar lessons? Will the cat upstairs ever stop screaming? Will my supply of tequila hold out?

And what about Naomi?

For answers to this and much, much more, let us consult the iPod, shall we?

As I do every Friday, I cling to the idea that the morning’s playlist during my commute has prophetic portents.

Why not?

Just a Song Before I Go by Crosby, Stills & Nash
I Bet You Look Good On the Dance Floor by the Arctic Monkeys
The Idiot Kings by Soul Coughing
Third Stone from The Sun by Jimi Hendrix
The Fear by Lily Allen
A Perfect Twist by Mike Patton

Judging from the list, I would say that this arctic monkey is taking a trip, although I resent the idea that I am an idiot and will write a letter of complaint to myself just as soon as I get the chance.

Speaking of letters of complaint, it’s time for my semi-yearly letter to the Metropolitan Transit Commission, the one in which I suggest ways in which they could improve my bus-riding satisfaction.

They have yet to implement my suggestions, but I remain hopeful.

My current list, ready for an immediate cut-and-paste situation on their part, is as follows:

• No staring at your fellow passengers. If you can’t watch me out of the corner of your eye, try wearing mirrored sunglasses and then staring.

• One ticket, one seat. In other words, your bag does not get its own place on the bus. First-time transgressors will be assigned an incredibly large man to sit next to them for a week. The second time your bag occupies a seat, it will be passed around and pillaged. The third time this happens both you and your bag will be escorted to the edge of town and left there.

• What you believe is a surreptitious expression of gas whilst wearing headphones may not be as secretive as you thought. Trust me – that wasn’t quiet. We really can’t make a rule against flatulence any more than we can ensure you stop sucking your teeth in that annoying fashion, but perhaps you knowing that we are on to you and your gas-passing ways will deter you in the future.

• Energetically pretending to play an instrument on the bus will not lead to someone approaching you with a recording contract, nor will it garner your fellow riders’ admiration. Yes, yes, yes; when you are not on the bus you are terribly cool. We get it already.

• Wednesdays have become dull and, frankly, lack that, oh, I don't know -- je ne sais quoi. Starting immediately, Wednesday’s will be Guess What His Problem Is Day, an opportunity to not only get to know the people who sit next to you but also give you an opportunity to later stock up on the proper over-the-counter-medicines, see a doctor, and learn to better defend yourself. As Ted Nugent used to say, it’s a free-for-all, baby!



So that’s the letter to the MTC this time around. My last missive earned me a home visit with a cease-and-desist theme, so you can imagine how excited I am to drop this in the mail.

Wish me luck!

Have a lovely weekend, everyone. I’ll be here tomorrow as well!