Public Transportation Blues

This is something I actually haven't seen.

One of the advantages of living in the big city is access to a vibrant public transportation system that can take you just about anywhere you want to go. I don’t drive, so public transportation is very important to me. I appreciate that without it I couldn’t get to work, the mall, or most other places I want to be.

On the whole, people who ride public transportation are courteous and act well within the boundaries of acceptable public behavior. On the whole. However, it’s simply not good form to critique a fellow traveler, and doing so could even get you shot. I don’t want to get shot, so I tend to keep my opinions to myself, even in the face of some pretty outrageous behavior. I’m sorry to be such a coward, but I think it’s best.

That said, and imagining for just a moment that I weren’t a coward who’s afraid of getting shot, here are those things I would say to my bad-mannered bus mates. 

• I don’t want to see the crack of your behind, ever. Wear your correct size, wear a belt, lose weight, lose the low-risers, grow up and get a clue—do whatever you need to do, but don’t show me the crack of your butt. Ever.
• It makes me sad when you abuse your child. You’re hurting her with your hands and your mean talk. You’re also teaching her that she can never be safe—even in the presence of a bus full of adults she can be victimized. Most parents lose it every now and again, but if this is how you parent in public, God only knows what you’re doing in private. Seek help for both your sakes, please.
• I’m sure it tastes delicious, and you certainly seem to be enjoying it, but your lunch stinks.
• For Pete’s sake, blow your nose! That repeated snorting sound is giving me the willies.
• When you distribute your trash (empty fast-food containers, sunflower seed shells, used candy wrappers) on the floor, I seriously question the quality of your upbringing. It is not okay to use the floor as a giant refuse bin.
• It’s not that hard to find a pair of headphones that actually work. My pair costs less than $20.00, and when I wear them, you can’t hear what I hear. That’s how it should be. Would you please consider replacing your pair, so I don’t have to hear what your hear? That’d be great.
• Repeat after me. “My backpack was not intended to be a weapon.” Nice.
• You are not invisible. Seriously, I can see you picking your nose.

 Such are the challenges of public transportation. I could learn to drive, as many near and dear to me keep urging, but why should I give up all this?