I remember riding the bus all the time... what fun days, being crammed inside a short bus with 50 other people, it's 105 degrees out, and not only is there no A/C on the bus but no one else except me seemed to have remembered to wear deodorant that day. And then the bus stops to pick up someone in a wheel chair, a five minute activity that seems to take the bus driver an hour, and it usually happens when the bus was already ten minutes late and you are now completely ridiculously late for work, and your long-sleeve white shirt, black slacks and red power tie (all standard issues clothing for where I had to work) are soaked with sweat. Then someone opens another window and your transfer blows out into traffic because it slipped out of your hand as you try and readjust holding onto the crappy metal pole at the back of the bus. THE BUS RULES!!!
Hahaha I actually do miss it sometimes, it was a great place for studying a wide range of people and faces.
― The Man they call Dan (The Man they call Dan), Wednesday, 6 August 2003 04:36 (twenty-two years ago)