From the original on the series the ongoing 311 saga continues;
Up until now, I've only spoken about the early morning rides on the good ship Metro. That's only 50% of the picture in regards to the full scheme of things. Afternoon rides home come with their own delightful experiences as well; chilly weather, people, traffic, warm weather, more people, traffic etc., packed in like cattle. The ride home is a totally different experience compared to the early morn excursion to work; one because I am fully awake and two, we're all going home...
Three, there's a different kind of crowd. I recognize some of the regular riders from the morning trip, acknowledge a couple, but the whole is much different. Right now, it's as much as night and day, to go to work in the dark compared to home during the light of the day. I say "light" because in Western Washington you get all kinds of sunlight from heavily cloud filtered to an awesome clear and brilliant azure sky. Usually it's the former, of some sort. Enough of the weather, there's a story to be told;
Date/Time unknown. It is a rather warm summer day, which usually makes for an oven/sauna like experience in the bus for the ride home. The dampness of your back feels so cooling as you finally get to exit once the bus arrives at the park & ride. Usually the windows are open, which helps but when it's warm outside it feels like having the heater blowing and when the bus slows down for the next stop all the air stops moving too. The smell of the hot vinyl seats with the mingled odor of human scent is so refreshing. Especially when the bus is packed like a cattle car.
I got on the bus near 8th and Olive, where I usually catch the 311 home. I climbed aboard and made towards the back of the bus looking for an open seat. As usual, it was nearly full. I spotted one, that faced forward, just past the articulated part of the bus. An older man with graying hair and beard reading a book, I'd say in his 50's was sitting cross legged in the seats in the hinge/articulated part of the bus, which face inwards, 2 on each side. I approached trying to zero in on the seat before the bus started rolling.
As I passed "gray beard", his foot bumped my leg pretty good before I turned and took my seat just past him, across the aisle. We exchanged looks, him briefly peering over the top of his book, which did actually have a pirate on the front, while I looked back to see what nearly tripped me. He didn't bother to move his jogging shoe out of the way as I passed. I didn't say anything, but I'm sure my face had the look of "what the hell was that all about?".
I put my bag between my legs, reached for my MP3 player and leaned back for the hot ride home. The bus started to roll and I noticed a foul wind on the stale warm air. It's one of those smells that makes you instinctively look at the bottom of your shoe for possible fecal matter. My shoes were clean, so was the lady sitting right next to me, and the one directly across the aisle too. I couldn't say the same for ol' gray beard.
Sitting there, his legs still crossed, his Reebok sticking way out, I saw a big brown clump stuck right on the end of it. Rather big, it covered the whole end of his foot and it reeked of that sickening sweetish smell of crap. Aghast, I looked on my pant leg where we collided and luckily didn't find anything foreign there, then I looked up at him with a complete look of disgust and gasped. How the hell could he miss that? I certainly didn't!
I'll never forget the look on his face as his eyes found mine again. Before I could even say anything he blurted out "got a problem?" with a bit of unnecessary force.
"Yes, I do." I said with all the calm I could muster. "Actually because you have a problem; I can smell that large clump of shit on your shoe", my finger pointing right at it. Other people sitting in the area suddenly noticed and all looked for themselves. All showing some measure of disgust.
If possible, his face turned paler as it drained of what little color it had. "How about you put it down so that the next person on doesn't bump into it like I just did?" He immediately put his crappy foot on the floor, fumbled with his book & even he looked a little sickened by the nasty mass attached to his shoe. He did briefly apologize, but I don't think that many around him felt much better because of it. I'll try to forgive my trespassers and do it by writing it out. I'm sure it made for a long uncomfortable trip home for him too.
I still see the guy on the bus today. He acts like he doesn't know me, but I do notice that his shoes are clean. It has been a while since I've ridden days, still he certainly left a lasting impression in my mind. I don't know why people act like this, especially when you see alot of the same people day after day. Alas, this would be a good place if it weren't for all the people!
I step off to seek my path towards my own personal bliss. Perhaps the ride is helping me find it a little bit.
