In addition to these things, I have actually experienced all of the following on the bus:
- Sitting for twenty minutes right next to a girl with whom I (a) went to law school for three years, (b) shared two classes and many mutual friends, (c) spoke to at at least one party, and (d) freaking know by name, face, and voice and who, despite all of the above, did not register a flicker of recognition when I looked her in the eyes and sat down beside her.
- Riding for twenty minutes, jiggling my knee and bobbing my head to Nick Cave’s murder ballads on my mp3 player, only to exit, walk to my building, step onto the elevator, notice the stares of three coworkers, remove my headphones, and discover that my blackberry (a separate device) had been playing, loudly, a podcast about Henry VIII the entire time, complete with gruesome descriptions of his wives’ deaths. Now whenever I’m listening to music on the bus and I see someone glance at me, I have to remove the headphones and ensure that I’m not broadcasting nerdy podcasts the length of the silent morning commute.
- Shifting the paper bag I use to carry my lunch and my travel mug across my lap in such a way as to cause cool yerba mate (an inconvenient light greenish-yellow color) to trickle embarrassingly down my legs.
I still prefer the bus to the train. Probably because I’d be a lot more embarrassed if any of the above happened to be on the train in front of all the cool kids.