Like so many inhabitants of the Greater Boston area, I commute to work via public transportation. And like many others, I generally hate the MBTA. Luckily, I only work about two miles from home, with a very convenient bus-route that I take on the mornings I don't walk. Generally, it's an uneventful commute that I spend reading or doing the Metro crossword puzzle. However, there are some mornings when it just sucks and I walk off the bus ready to punt a baby across the street.*
Yesterday morning was one of those commutes. It was cold. Damn cold, because hi, it's February in Boston. I was wearing my usual long sleeved shirt, fleece, long puffy coat, two scarves and pair of gloves. You know, enough to keep me from freezing to death while walking from the bus to my office. I stepped onto the ridiculously crowded bus and it was so hot that I immediately started to sweat. A lot. I made my way to the back of the bus to find a seat. The only free seat on the entire bus was not actually free because this awesome woman decided that the one seat per person rule is poppycock. Excellent. Because of course you should let your beautiful multicolored pleather purse have its own seat while people cram into the aisle like sardines. Well done, asshole.
Then of course there was the gentleman who was screaming on his cell phone in a language that I could not and did not care to understand. Actually, there were some words that I understood, and they weren't exactly friendly. And it's not as though the bus was loud. Actually, it was eerily silent so his yelling was even more awkward for everyone. At this point, I was standing, sweating, and trying not to freak out because of the people who are way, way too close to me. I was just about to yell at the guy behind me whose briefcase was pretty much resting on my ass when finally, we take the turn and my stop is almost here! Freedom, sweet freedom.
The bus stopped, and everyone started to get off. The briefcase-wielding gentleman behind me slammed into me with such force that I then hit into the huge woman in front of me. She was none to pleased. Maybe briefcase man's vision was blurred by the sweltering heat and he failed to see the twenty people in front of him trying to get off the bus. Or maybe he was just an asshole? Seemed to be the theme of the day, no?
This picture pretty much sums up my feelings when I finally stepped off the death trap that was the CT2 bus:
*Please note that I would never actually punt a baby across the street, thank you.