Life of a Bus Passenger, Part 2

31 May

Some people on the bus like to believe that the business of others is also their own business. I don’t agree, but there are people who think that just because you, too, ride the bus, they have the right to speak to you about any topic that pops into their tiny pea brains.

The woman who tried to assault me for cupcakes is one of these busy bodies.

Last week, on the bus ride home, Todd and I sat quietly in our usual seats: back of the bus, first two seats in the upper section. I hear a gruff voice say quietly, “are you going to ask them about the bus stop?” I thought I’d listen in because my hands were no longer interesting enough to stare at.

“Who are you talking about?” said a woman behind us.

“The two in front of you.” Us? Is that us you’re speaking about?

“No! Leave them alone and let them ride the bus.” Hear hear!

You’d think this is where the story ends. It does not.

The next day Todd and I are sitting in the usual seats again with the same people behind us as always. As we’re rounding a corner, the woman who tried to verbally assault me swings around into the aisle so that she’s right up in our personal bubble.

“So I just have a question for you!” she shouted.

“…yes?”

“We were wondering,” gesturing to the large man with the gruff voice, “why you get off at this bus stop then walk right past the next one?” she said as if she knew all of the things in the world.

“We don’t… we get off and turn left at the street between the two bus stops.”

Firstly, the bus is out of site before we’re even 20ft past the bus stop. How would they know that we walked past the second one if they are nowhere NEAR the vicinity? Secondly, she asked why we got off at the one we did and not the next one. Well, come on, that would just be backtracking. And who would want to stay on a bus with people that they are constantly in fear of being verbally assaulted by? Not this gal.

So this woman decides that she can sit back down at this point because the great bus stop mystery has been solved. Her fellow seat mate was actually quite pleasant – a middle aged woman that reminded me just a tad of my mom – and not at all overbearing. We chatted for a second with the pleasant woman and went back to our front-facing positions.

“He also thinks it’s cute that you two smooch and hold hands on the bus!” Cue embarrassment for all, including older-gruff-gentleman, and excluding her own because she’s just that clueless. Instead of turning around and shouting at this woman to stay out of my personal business (and no, Todd and I do not “smooch” on the bus; we kiss once when I get on the bus at my stop and that’s that), I sit quietly and shake my head and hope that someone decides to sew her mouth shut.

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