The wheels on the bus

Valentine’s night was predictably slow. I worked just 3 hours because business was dead. One of my coworkers was in an unbelievably good mood, she said, because she had broken up with her boyfriend and wasn’t taken anymore.

I had caught a ride to town in my roommate’s Subaru today. My car wouldn’t have made it through the slush. Not having the car meant taking the bus home tonight.

After work I waited 20 minutes in the Uptown transit station. The first bus didn’t show. I was staring at my phone when I heard a dad shout to his little girl. “I’m gonna leave you here! I’m not even jokin’,” he said laughing. He stopped, walked slowly away, and glanced back playfully. The girl smiled, ran and caught up with him and hugged his leg. I made eye contact and laughed with the father before they played a game of chase and disappeared. I saw another man holding hands with a woman, a little bit of some pink and cellophane gift poking out of his jacket.

The marquis counted down, 3 minutes, 1 minute, and then rolled over to 10 minutes again. The 9 bus finally pulled up to its spot as a crowd of passengers coalesced into a huddle by the door. Once onboard I moved to the back, sat down and glanced around. One couple sat on the back bench, the man’s knees almost touching mine. “How’s y’all’s Valentine’s going?” I asked. “Aaagh, could be better,” he said in a loud, enthusiastic growl. “We been gettin’ run around all night, trying to find a hotel room. We just gave up. We’re just gonna wait and have our Valentine’s on Sunday.”

“That’s the way to do it…,” I offered, trying to cut the tension of the negative response, “…when no one else is out.” “Yeah, that’s true,” he said. He asked me about my drawing, and I showed him my sketchbook. We rode in silence until he got off at his stop, leaving his girlfriend aboard. I wished him luck with the next date. “Yeah, thanks man,” he smiled and waved.

My mind wandered. I noted the young man who took the place of my interlocutor. He chose one of the two available seats, but then slid onto the hump spanning them to avoid being too close to either neighbor. Another couple disembarked, and the young man sprang up and over to the far end of the bench. My stop came. I mounted my bike and cruised home.

This isn’t the first time I’ve ridden the bus. I had commuted by bus for most of last fall, winter and spring, before I bought my current car. I didn’t always enjoy the constraints of transit. But I’ve come to realize how unique a place the bus can be, a classroom to learn about other people and cultures and human behavior. Anyone who never has should commute by bus at least one week. It’s a guaranteed way to learn something new about yourself and others.