Shoppers. They’ve been taking up extra leg and chair space on the bus over the past couple of weeks, with their big plastic bags and boxes. I might sound a little bitter, but I usually have absolutely no problem with this; after all, how else are people supposed to load their gifts back home? Over the weekend on the 33, though, I met two she-shoppers who I had a big problem with. One of the mid-20-year-olds in particular, toting her Gucci handbag knockoff and several recently purchased items, unleashed the annual holiday grouch in me.
Withdrawing perfume from her handbag, she began spraying it on her neck, all the while rambling on in high decibels that “this perfume works best with my chemistry.” And “Oh my god, we haven’t been on a serious, no I mean serious, shopping spree in so long.” With the high-pitched inflection on the “so.”
I withstood about 8 minutes of her continuous superficial rant about topics from clothes to what a great restaurant manager she was, when I declared to no one in particular, “I can’t take it anymore,” and moved as far as possible toward the front of the bus. But I could still hear the obnoxious, high-pitched cacophony from the socially impervious twit.
This is usually when I have to stop myself from completely unraveling and screaming down the aisle. In this particular case, I managed to keep my cool by: 1) thinking to myself of all the things I’d say to her about why she sucks, 2) taking a deep breath, and 3) looking to my fellow riders to see if I’m not the only one affected by the sounds and smells coming from the loudmouth in row 12.
Upon scanning the crowd, I thankfully found connection. Faces were twisted, hands were clenched, smirks were abound. For some reason, whatever the reason, I felt OK knowing that my misery was shared by others. I guess we all have to put up with a lot of shit in life, and Muni doesn’t help. Or does it? On one hand, we bottle up a lot of feelings on Muni, keeping our mouths shut, and staring out the window. But on the other hand, we invoke our inner zen by peering at the world and not taking the whole thing too damn seriously. I guess that’s just called civilization. Even so, there was no civilization going on at the back of the bus.
“Oh my god, smell this!” was the last indiscretion I heard as I scrambled off at Ashbury and Haight.
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you think most people who violate the harm principle has no idea what it is?
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AHAHHAHAHHAHHA! Surreptitious picture taking! If I were in your shoes & situation, I’d probably release some counter-perfume of my own and remark about someone cutting the cheese on the bus.
It’s always interesting to ride Muni. You get to observe the many facets of life and people.
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I often encounter this on the 49, since I pick it up right next to the Heathen Den of Galileo High School. And I always want to die when it happens.
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