Dancing for joy

So I am riding the bus and we get to a stop where drivers change for shifts. The is a normal thing so no one is getting angry about the delay. No one, that is, with the exception of myself. Why am I angry about it? Glad you asked. I am sitting in the very first seat, it is cold and snowing, and the door is open. Nothing makes you regret life choices more than underdressing during a Winter storm. The truly sad thing about this is that this was supposed to be the first day of Spring (in Chicago which means diddly squat). So the bus driver finally closes the door and this older guy moseys up to the door. The driver opens the door and allows him to board. For the next few minutes, this guy does a whole routine of checking his pockets, blowing into his hands, checking his bag, and looking like he was truly puzzled that he could not find his bus card. He knew damn well that he had no card and he just stood there looking like he hoped no one noticed that he didn't pay a bus fare. I noticed, damn you!!! Then he pulled a bottle of Seagram's alcohol out of his hidden coat pocket and got off at the very next stop. Well played Mr. Wine head. So after stopping for a burrito at my favorite burrito spot (that is a direct lie because any place that has burritos is my favorite burrito spot) I boarded the next bus. The problem with that was there was a young lady that boarded ahead of me but decided to plant herself directly over the front wheel well and, despite me and her skinny stature, decided to become an obstacle. Damn it, you skinny chick! Get out of the way!! Suddenly, the bus driver decides to get heavy on the brakes and the bus starts jerking back and forth before I could sit down. Now I am off balance and I can't grab a pole or ring because of this burrito and I look as though I am Salsa dancing with cross bandoleros (my body oil belts) across my chest and a burrito in my hand. All I needed was some music. The people in the back were looking at me wondering why I was so happy about my burrito. That was not happiness. It was the terror of feeling that I would injure myself and have to explain to the EMTs why I didn't drop the burrito to save myself. It's kind of like the monkey that can't free himself of the jar because he won't let go of the item that was in the jar.

Convention time

So I was riding the bus and the driver stopped to switch drivers. Either the driver was early or the relief was late but we sat there for about 5 minutes. Since I was not in any particular hurry, I sat quietly and played a game on my phone. Suddenly, several drivers boarded the bus. They were very jovial and light-hearted but that was enough to get the passengers mad about the extended wait. Grumble, grumble, grumble was all I heard. One of the drivers said that the more we complained, the longer it would be before we took off. I know he was kidding but why did he have to say that? Every wise ass on the bus was suddenly in a hurry to get to their destinations. The crazy thing was that nearly everyone that had something to say about how long it took got off at the train station, which was two stops away. Go figure. Anyway, on my way home I decided to go get some food. Some guy asked me if I had any cigarettes for sale. I just shook my head but I didn't look up from my phone, which pissed off the guy asking. When I looked up to see how offended the guy was I noticed his face was buried in his girlfriend's phone, as was hers. When we got to his stop he let it pass and his girl got mad, stating that she wanted to get off at the gas station. He made up an excuse that she had to walk in that direction anyway so he didn't think it was a bad thing. That mad his girlfriend so mad that she tried to open the door before the bus came to a full stop. I don't know what she was going to do if it opened. I guess a combat roll was her only option other than a faceplant. The guy, desperate to save face with his girlfriend, said something stupid to the driver about stopping the bus. At that point of the day, I would have just called it a day and gone to sleep for the night. Dude was batting 1.000 in stupid and I would have cashed in my chips. So when I got to my destination I noticed there was a plastic mustache on the seat next to me. A. Plastic. Mustache. What in the 9 hells is a plastic mustache doing on the bus? My mind was suddenly soaring with the possibilities as well as questions. Who the hell were you hiding from? Who in the hell did you think you were fooling? Do plastic mustaches hold frost like real ones do? When you sneeze does the mustache act as a projectile? Can you throw it at people like Batman throws his throwing bats? How long was it before you realized your plastic mustache was missing? Was it when you got to the bank? The questions are endless....