Bus Rides to Work

I ride the bus from home to the bus station, and then from the bus station down the 16th Street Mall downtown to my work. 2 different busses, 2 very different rides.

The first bus I take is approximately 25 minutes long. I start north of the City, and everyone I ride with are commuters like me. Dressed in the work attire of drab grays, blacks, browns, whites and blue, we load in about 5:30, and sit quietly. Really it's too early for intelligent conversation, but I'm not sure we'd talk to each other either way. We are a somber, quiet group. Reading our books, listening to our headphones, or perhaps vacantly staring out the window. I often feel a bit of poetic martyrdom sitting there, like we're all shuffling towards some long-decided fate, all dressed alike, all going to similar jobs. . . All pretty miserable about it.

Some mornings.

Other mornings on that bus I feel like I'm part of something great. That I've been assimilated into some sort of Corporate Borg unit, and I'm doing my part to really make some sort of difference, if not in the world, then at least in my small sphere of influence as I bring home a happy paycheck every other Friday.

Regardless of how I'm feeling that particular morning (martyr or Borg) I disembark on the Northern part of downtown, and hop on a shuttle to ride 10 minutes down the street. On this bus, a few of the commuters have joined me, and it's now approaching 6:00. The homeless people are waking up and heading towards various (and I admit, unknown) destinations, the janitors are out cleaning the streets from last nights activities and hop on and off at different stops. The cleaning ladies for the nearby hotels are just starting their morning shifts, and hop on the bus in groups. All laughing and talking excitedly, arms around each other with smiling faces; I find that I can't help but smile with them, even though I can't understand a word they're saying.

Some mornings there's a guy who's a bit mad that hops on the shuttle with me. He always ducks down behind the windows after the door shuts, muttering to himself, keeping a watchful eye out for some unseen enemy. When he's not completely paranoid (which is rare), he'll start poking fun of the other passengers, usually women. First, he begins with the compliment "that skirt looks very nice". . .it's difficult to know what kind of response to give him, for I've seen the range of "thanks" to stony silence, and they all produce the same result. He angrily mutters to himself, then takes back the compliment, then waits for the poor female to disembark, and which point he starts to yell at them "you better hurry!!!" perhaps for the lack of something more intimidating coming to his mind.

Either way he's about 5 feet tall, not too much of a threat, and treated with general good humor.

There are a ton more characters to list for the shuttle; the Ladies Man who loves nothing more than a good conversation first thing in the morning (a different lady EVERY morning. Don't pretend to know him, he forgets you pretty quick); the Security Guard who suspiciously eyes everyone on the bus, probably taking his duty a bit too seriously; the Jogger who must not jog very much because he's always riding the bus; the Homeless Businessman - a character who intrigues me, he is always dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt with loafers. . .you'd never guess he was homeless except for the grocery cart with all his baggage in it (and nice, name-brand baggage too, if a bit worn) .

I could go on and on. The shorter shuttle ride is always a TON more interesting than the long commuter ride, and that's when I think to myself how boring the world would be if everyone chose the same life-path.