I am no stranger to public transit. I
grew up in Northern Kentucky where there is a fairly extensive bus system that
coordinates with Cincinnati’s system across the river. All of my growing up years and very early
adulthood were spent taking buses and walking to wherever I needed to get.
Where I live in FL, the public transit is pretty sparse, but I use it as much as I can. I have used public transit in Albuquerque
a lot (including the day that a river of puke rolled down the center aisle from
the homeless Listerine drunk who was sitting in the back row) and in Phoenix
and Houston.
Baltimore is proving to be a lot of fun on the score of public transit. Now, first let me say that they have a very
good system. I spent the whole day just
moving around on the various forms: bus, light rail and subway. The handy light rail station at the bottom of
the hill has an automated fare machine where I was able to buy a pass for the
entire month that is good for all three forms of transit. Thank God I did a dry run before I needed to
be somewhere on time, I’d have missed my bus for waiting on the wrong side of
the street. But, I got on the right bus
and rode into town.
It’s Sunday, so there were a couple of older ladies all dress up for church
getting on and off here and there. Then
we started getting closer to downtown. I
saw a large-ish group getting on the bus.
This was a sorry little lot. The
first of them actually said, loudly, as she boarded, “Yeah look at all the
meth-heads and junkies!”
Precisely.
Just before the bus pulled away from this stop – which was apparently near a
soup kitchen (I presumed as the obese “meth-heads and junkies” MC was loudly critiquing
the fare) I saw a chick who looked for all the world like a walker. Shambling across the street, she stumbled
onto the bus and could barely stay awake to slide her little ticket through the
reader. The last nodding junkie sat
alone near the front of the bus and I played a little mental game of “will she
fall out of the seat”. She didn’t. But the larger group behind me was carrying
on simultaneous loud conversations. The overriding voice was the MC. She was
decidedly displeased with the free food on offer at the church. When she finally debarked, another voice
could now be heard loudly discussing his current legal woes and how “that cop
didn’t have any right to impede my progress”…obviously a budding legal
scholar. Finally the last of that group
got off the bus as well.
At some point a young woman boarded the bus with 2 children, ages about 5 and
7. A boy and a girl. They were very well behaved. This is not surprising in and of itself, but
it was a nice little lesson for me on not being too swayed by appearances. The mother was young, had to be early
20s. She was wearing some stretchy pants
with a garish design on them that accentuated the fact that they were probably
about 2 sizes too small for this woman.
Her t-shirt didn’t fill the gap of her slightly pudgy belly that hung over
the top of the too tight pants. But, she
spoke softly to her children and they obeyed with an obvious respect for their
mother. And she treated them both with a
clear command, but also with such apparent love that it really touched me.
I became so fascinated with this little scene that I didn’t realize till too
late that I’d missed my stop. So, I made
my way toward the front to speak to the driver as we came to the terminus of
his line.
Now. Before I continue, if you don’t
know who Idris Elba is, stop now. Get
out the big Google and look him up. He
is delicious in any language, but that British accent…wait…where was I? Oh yeah.
The driver. He was a dead ringer
for Elba. He was also very friendly and
helpful. Asked if I was from out of town. I said, “Well, I’m new in town, anyway.” He said, “Welcome.” And winked at me. I swear I couldn’t decide whether to faint or
pee in my pants. So, I just sat
down. Far back enough that I couldn’t
see him lest I have difficulty breathing.
I then decided to backtrack so I’d know where to go to make my connection when
I need to the next morning. I then rode the
subway all the way to its terminus and back.
At one station where I decided to get off and explore a bit, there was a
shady guy standing by the exit asking, in a low and sort of sinister voice,
“You got a extra bus pass you wanna sell, dahlin’?” Bus pass scalpers? How does that work? I just said, “No, sir.” And got back on the
subway.
I then rode to another stop that I wanted to investigate as it would link to a
couple of buses that would get me to/from places I may need to get to
frequently. As I climbed the steps to
the platform, I was behind an older lady who kept looking over her shoulder at
me. I realized at some point that she’d
actually picked up her pace. Did I look threatening in some way? I laughed it off. Once on the platform, I realized it was
actually kind of chilly, so I decided to sit in the sun to wait for the
train. The older lady apparently had
the same idea. I strode toward her and
was about to sit on the opposite side of the little bench and strike up a
conversation. She very quickly bundled
up her things and scuttled off. I’ve
never scared an old lady before. Maybe
it was the Anna Maria Island hoodie.
I took the subway back to the light rail to make my way home and there, in the
same car with me, had to be the offspring of the MC from the bus. She spoke loudly, as though on stage, even
though she was nominally speaking to the gentleman in the seat next to
her. I came in too late to know the
topic of her diatribe, but whatever it was was fucked up. I know this because she kept saying that in
cycles of three:”Dass fucked up, man.
Dass fucked up. Dass fucked
up.” It had kind of a tempo to it. I almost wanted to write a song about it.
Then, this little chick who was almost wearing a handkerchief tied on with a
shoestring for a blouse got on. She
started playing her demo tape (disc?) loudly on a set of speakers she was
carrying with her. You’ve never seen a
group of people who’ve never met look at each other with such clear
communication. “Whaffuck?” was on all
our faces. When she got off a couple of
stops later, a gentleman in a seat a bit behind me said, “Were we supposed to
tip her?” Gentle chuckles from the “dass
fucked up” lady.
Hilarious!
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