The Bus

Now, I've been taking the bus on-and-off for some time, it's not a really a new thing for me. I enjoy the break from stop-and-go commuting and the ability to put on the headphones and watch Top Gear on my laptop.

I always try to sit at the back, usually in the right corner, as it's least likely to get the glare on the laptop, and nobody's going to look over my shoulder. Also, the back of the bus is where all the cool people got to sit when I was a kid. So this is sort of my chance now.

Riding the bus can be great if your Bus Karma is good, and all your connections line up and you're not standing around waiting too much. On the other hand, there's always those Bad Bus Karma days when you sprint four blocks to catch the bus but the driver pulls away just as you get there and then sits at the red light, three feet from the stop, ignoring your hammering on the door with a steadfast adherence to regulations that provides a glimpse into how things like the Third Reich happened.

Also, a good bus can sometimes be a mini-theatre troupe. There's borderline-racist old people, young punks swearing good-naturedly, and a whole cavalcade of weirdoes.
Case in point: this Sunday I took the bus up main from work and a guy got on with an exposed attached catheter bag full of urine.
He sat down and began talking.
"This is a nice city. Lots of condos. I never raised my kids in no condo. I talk to myself, but I used to be a DJ, so there you go."
Then the bus rear-ended somebody and a multiply-pierced kid from Halifax who looked like he should be on a poster about the importance of nailgun safety started talking about how bad Vancouver drivers were.

However, we do like to retreat into our own little world on buses. I was lucky enough to catch one of the "trivia busses", where the bus-driver asks questions and rewards people with chocolate bars. Nobody wanted to play. Sad.