I use public transit on a daily basis, generally to cart my ever-expanding butt down to gentrified South Arlington for rehearsals/performances of a play. The premise of said play is a surf-obsessed teenager with multiple personality disorder (yours truly) reeking havoc on Malibu Beach in the 1960's. It's dreadful, but fun. More on that later. However, it's about a 30 minute bus ride and the most eventful trips have simply been ones where my iPhone doesn't have enough juice to fuel 30 minutes of the Lady Gaga Pandora station.
About five minutes after crossing over Route 50 (meaning, we are in SOUTH Arlington, now y'all!!) the man behind me starts howling. I do, in fact, mean howling. Like a wolf. At the moon. At an alarming volume. He proceeds to do this for a full block. Just as the rest of the bus begins to grow uneasy and the driver looks warily into the rearview, Lupin stifles himself and goes back to sitting placidly, staring out the window. Strike one.
Until he "spies" his friend, Clyde. The siting of his friend out the bus window inspires homeboy to leap to his feet and bellow out the window to him. Naturally, as Clyde may or may not know the whereabouts of his keys. "CLYDE!!!! CLYYYYYYDE!!!!!!!! CLYYYYYYYYYYDDEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! YOU GOT MY KEYS?!?! NAWWWW CLYDEE WHERE MY KEYS AT?!??!" I turn to see why on EARTH this psychotic wolf man thinks he can bellow through the closed window of a moving vehicle and note that there are no pedestrians to be found anywhere along the street. Strike two.
About two minutes later I realize there is a faint smell coming from behind me, and I have a headache. It takes me a second or two to realize that the smell is weed. Because Coyote Crazy has lit a joint on a public bus. The bus driver realizes what's going on approximately three seconds after I do, immediately pulls the bus over and shouts, "NIGGA YOU BETTA PUT THAT SHIT OUT ON MY BUS". The only Caucasian, and one of three women on the bus, I cannot control my laughter at this point. This fact is only increased when Nutters McGee keeps calling the bus driver "Champ" like he's on his nephew's t-ball team.
Finally, he gets off the bus at a house that I insist to all my friends is "The Wire" House; a complete shithole in the middle of a freshly re-built, yuppified area with a giant ghetto van with two element-exposed teddy bears perched atop the back. Because the bears are blatantly stuffed full of crack or nanny cams, duh. As he leaves, he accidentally brushes the man in front of me with his elbow and as he slurs "Sorry, Champ, sorry," the other man leaps to his feet, snatches Crazy Man's elbow and hisses in his face "You better not touch me, fool, or I'll stab yo' ass. I got a blade.". Crazy babbles incoherently as he backs off the bus. The rest of the bus sits in absolute silence and watches as Stabby Joe moseys to the front of the bus and assures the exhausted driver, that he "woulda stabbed that stupid mothafucka, but you can't be doin' that in fronta woman and children".
He gets off at the next stop.
This ride sooo beats the time a handicapped man sang a Salt-N-Peppa refrain for ten straight minutes only pausing to inhale.