Misadventures on the bus

The bus system plays a second class role to the subway. They have no cache. I recently learned that the Boston Green line never goes above 23 miles per hour. That means that the bus can actually be faster than the subway. However, they are never on time, they tend to be smellier, they make too many stops, so buses will always play second fiddle to the subway.

I take the bus frequently. Normally, I don't mind. I prefer being above ground and more stops tranlates into having stops conveniently located throughout the city. I also believe that the bus is one of the best deals in Boston. Not only is it a manner of transport but it serves as entertainment or at least leaves me a treasure chest of stories to share with you.

Psst...Mormons.
Two weeks ago I was on the 66 bus trying to get back to the lab from a class I teach in Harvard Square. I chose to take the public bus instead of the Harvard shuttle bus, because I wanted some pizza and the pizza parlor is across from the 66 bus stop. After two Sicillian slices, and approximately 4 songs on my iPod the bus came barreling around the corner. The bus was very full compounded by the fact that everyone was in bulky jackets and their bags. I managed to squeeze myself to the back. I sat next to a middle aged woman with greasy midlength brown hair and purple ski jacket. I still had my conspicuiously large earphones on my ears, when I felt a tap on my arm. The woman was apparently was talking to me. I nodded my head. I said, "Yes, it is cold out ." "Yes, it has been a mild winter." "No, I don't very much about the new bus commission."

After a few moments of silence from her, She tapped me a little harder. She pulled my arm close to her and in a loud whisper she said "Look." She pointed to the front of the bus to two boys in dark suits, black ties, and black messenger bags. "They are Mormons. They are trying to convert people."

Then one of the Mormon boys came to sit in the seat in front of us. He began to talk to the alternative looking boy with tatoos and shaved head. The woman next to me could not help but tapping me everytime the Mormon boy talked. I really wanted her to stop touching me. The alternative boy left the bus. Then the woman said the the Mormon boy, "Are you a Mormon?"

He was, well not exactly. He was a member of the Church of Latter Day Saints. So the two of them started talking, loudly. She was Jewish. He was okay with that because that meant she believed in God. Did she know the story of Joseph Smith? No. I saw my opportunity and asked if he would like to switch seats with me. He said "of course." The two of them continued their conversation happily until the Mormon boy had to go leaving all his religious pamphlets in his wake.


Ultimate cage match
Last October, I got on the 39 to meet A and SS in Jamaica Plain. We were going to carpool to bookclub. Now, A takes the 39 at least 2 times a day without incident. I myself have not been so lucky. On this particular day the bus was late. It was the 6pm rush hour, and a bus had not arrived for 40 minutes. Afraid I would be too late, I choose to squeeze into the bus. This was not an exageration. I had stepped into the back door, and I had to press flesh with a slightly overweight African American lady(OAAL). I apologized every time the door opened because it made me lurch a little into the crowd. Everyone was in fairly good spirits though and told me no apologies were necessary.

At some point along Huntington Ave, it was evident that no one not even Mini-Me would be able to fit on this bus. It was filled to capacity and more. We got to the Veteran's Hospital stop and encountered another large group of cold frustrated people. A tall blonde women in a black suit, tried to squeeze next to me but there was no room. She yelled at all the passengers to move in the bus. The OAAL in front of me then told the Blonde "We got no where to go. Wait for the next bus." This infuriated the Blonde, who replied with "Just f$#% move in. I've been waiting for 15 minutes." Which was met with "We've all be waiting. I waited since 5:30 so get off."

Now there are some cardinal rules in life and one of them is: do not pick a fight with a sistah. Obviously, the Blonde did not know this rule, because some racial and other epithets came out of her mouth. And as the ultimate move, the Blonde spat at the OAAL. Well, actually she spat all over the place as I felt driblets of her saliva on my cheek. I tried to get off the bus at this point, but my backpack was caught between the doors that were still open. I panicked and simply ducked as the OAAL lunged for the Blonde. The two of them started punching and kicking. (Once again, I got caught in the crossfire as someone kicked my leg.) Luckily, two very large men held them from each other. Then an old jewish woman told the Blonde back to walk to the bus stop otherwise, she would tell the large man holding the OAAL to let go. The Blonde walked back, and the bus door finally closed.

As we left the OAAL kept shouting, and tried to call the police on her cell phone. Nothing happened. As a matter of fact, the bus driver did not even acknowledge this 5 minute delay. Guess it was just another day on the 39.