Friday, August 20, 2010

Public Transportation: Part 3

In the afternoons the bus smells like a new squirt gun. Or an air mattress. For some reason I love that smell as much as I love the fumes of gasoline and laundry detergent.

I've never understood why people think they have to stand right at the edge of the sidewalk when waiting to cross the street. One lady stood so close that when I peered down at her from the bus, I could see straight down her shirt. Not only is that incredibly awkward and disturbing, it's dangerous. (For he health of both the lady and me.)
Whenever I'm waiting at a crosswalk I try to stand a ways back from the road. Who knows when some rogue car (or bus, in this case) will lose control and smush the careless, unsuspecting city folk?
Yeesh.

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