Thursday, April 26, 2007

The Wheels On the Bus

I think I was born in the wrong time
, I thought to myself this morning, riding the bus to work, slammed against the pole by a middle aged man's backpack. Because, seriously, what happened to the good old days when dudes gave up their seats for ladies?

Young, sturdy-seeming gentlemen will grab the seat I was about to take, as we chug up yet another mountain and I desperately cling to my life and dignity. I stare them down, trying to guilt them into standing up, with pitiful sighs and dramatic bag shifts, but it's yet to have an effect. They refuse to even look up from their books or work, pretending to ignore the tragedy unfolding before them, nonchalantly flipping through their iPod.

I'm making progress, though. Today an elderly woman offered me her seat as she exited the bus, dismissing the man closer to the seat who had been on the bus longer. Victory!


  1. I always give up my seat and I make young people get up for old people. If they delay, I tell them they are not worthy of the seat and I expect them to get up NOW! Whatever has happened, I'm not letting it happen around me; someone has to keep the torch lit until the lights come back on.

  2. I usually lay across the seats.

    Who am I kidding? I haven't seen the inside of a bus since field trips to the zoo.

    But I laid on the seats on those too.


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