Friday, March 20, 2009

Bus Buds


My Lamborghini and helicopter have been in the shop recently and you aren’t allowed to ride horses (even if they are unicorns) in the city, so I have been relying on mass transit and my feet. I can’t say that I mind walking through the city when it’s nice out or getting on a bus that isn’t too packed. What I do mind are certain people on the bus making my ride home miserable. Yesterday was one of those days.

I got to the back of the bus with a bunch off gangster hoochies who must have been in high school. I assume this because they were having a discussion about grades and their current lack of getting good ones. One of these girls took special pride in her apparent lack of school skills. Her quote verbatim;

“Fuck, likes I give a shit about getting a D in that bitch class! On one of those questions I gave my answer as, who da fuck knows”

Who da fuck knows indeed. This young woman’s eloquent explanation of her thoughts on schooling received a very warm reception amongst her peer group. The laughing and cheering was extremely loud even though I had a walkman on (yes, I still have a walkman and I was listening to my Ace of Base mix tape). Needless to say it was not a very relaxed ride home. Has anyone else had a recent tale of woe from the bitch lover that is mass transit?

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

i think i met those chicks on the bus about 4 yrs ago. It must have been their freshman year. Oh how they grow up so fast....my fave are the asian girls yelling Ni$@%&*a please!
word to you, and your moms....

Anonymous said...

I have 2 stories I can tell:

Story One: Once I was on the 22 Fillmore. It was around 1994. The bus was packed as it was going along its merry route from Specific Whites down through The Mo`. A caucasian woman got on the bus (no this isn't what you think there's a reason I bring up 'race' so just calm those emotions if you is all emotionals) and went to where I was sitting. She said, somewhat under her breath, 'God makes'm and they ride the 22.' I overheard it, quite clearly, and gave her a good razzling for what she had said because of the very fact that nearly everybody on the bus was not caucasian. We had a good little argument and we both happened to get off at the same stop so I menaced her with nasty stares as I was walking parallel with her. She flagged down a cop and he just happened to be the same race as she. The police officer approached me after hearing her side and I had patiently waited. I told him exactly what she racist remarks she had made and that I had neither threatened her verbally nor in any other form with violence and I was just giving her dirty looks for what she said. The look on his face was precious and I was happily and quickly dismissed from any sort of police harassment.

Story Two: Another time I was on the 22 it was a muggy on the bus due to the humidity caused by the storm that was hitting. Yes, this too was a long time ago since we don't normally have rain in SF anymore. Everyone on the bus was ready to kill each other and the tension was so thick you could cut it with the proverbial knife for butter. Suddenly, out of the blue, there sprang out a deep, cheery, happy voice singing about unhappy folks on the bus, about the weather, picking up details about everyone around on the bus. The deep warm voice was lyrically brilliant and everything rhymed: faces brightened, people chuckled, and soon the tension was completely gone and there was the lull of chatter like I haven't heard in a long time. I say long time because since the walkman days there's been so little banter and so few folks care to meet by way of the bus, anymore.

I miss the days when you sat down next to someone with a good book and you would ask 'Oh! What are you reading there?' with genuine curiosity and they would genuinely want to tell you and share their experiences reading it.

Good day to you, Burt! I'll buy you a drink soon.

Anonymous said...

Burt, at least you only have a chance run in with them every once in a whileon Muni. I, on the other hand, live a half a block from AP Gianinni Middle School. My house is the middle point between the school and the ice cream shop and Dominos pizza. I see these little bastards every day. Every damn day, twice a day. They threw a rock at my car and i, of course, asked them what the fuck they were doing to which the little asian boy replied..."what choo gonna do bout it beotch? You a grown ass beotch and you can't do shit to me." To which i replied, "hold on, i'll just call the cops". Another of the little hooligans said "bitch just called the Popo, run!" which they did.
I hate the youth of America.

Anonymous said...

i love when u get on and are sitting comfortably on the bus then you start going through china town and the old ladies bring all their smelly garbage onto the bus, bumping into every person on there with a huge smile. If you want to see for yourself hop on the 45 or dirty 30 anytime between 7:30am and 9 am and start paying attention anywhere on stockton street