Good morning.
Another escargot episode on the bus. Each stop took 5 minutes to load. I really dislike these double buses. I have already gone on at length in these pages about how chronically annoying the behemoths are, simply by virtue their lateness and crowdedness. But wait, there's more.
* Imagine you're a motorist driving down east 14th street when a bus is pulled over to the right, picking up passengers. You're driving past the bus and suddenly it pulls out left, rearing its head out in front of you, craning like a blind seal. The driver doesn't see you (or doesn't care) and unless you swerve violently into the left lane, you're gonna smack him.
* It takes so long to walk down to the back of the bus to exit, sometimes the driver starts to pull away. Then you scream "back door!" The bus comes to a screeching halt, and if you don't hold on to something you will be thrown to the floor. (Although one should be used to the flinging by now. Especially if you're in the back of the bus, you're in a chronic state of vertigo. Last night I gave my seat to this poor little kid who was holding on to the back of a bench with both hands and still whipping around willy-nilly.)
And all of this happens if you're lucky. If you're unlucky, the driver didn't hear you, you've missed the back door exit, and have to get off at the next stop.
* My favorite is the spinny fundial in the center of the beast. It's like that carnival ride of the huge spinning barrels that Danny and Sandy skip-de-lou through at the end of "Grease." Only instead of cavorting with my honey, I'm trying to get home, carrying a purse, a bag full of gym clothes and library books, and -- my one concession to being an annoying New Yorker, relish it -- a latté. I'm very wary of crossing that dial, man. One false move and it's wipeout.
Any more tales from the darkside, friends?
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