City Bus...We Hardly Knew Ye

With both the New Yorker and the Dodge running, the boys and I say goodbye to the city bus. We'd been taking it while we waited to be a two-car family again.

It wasn't just the cars. For one week every peice of machinery that we owned broke. It was as if someone buried a magnet under our house that zapped all our appliances. So it took a while to fix everything. Now, it's back to our normal life, which runs like a well oiled machine that happens to have attention defecit disorder.

I believe in the bus. I know that it benefits the environment. But I also know that when our car is just sitting in front of our house, I'm going to take the easy way out.

And so I'll miss the reality T.V. show that you get riding on the metro.

For instance, there was the sweet old lady, who turned to me and said, "I live in a group home, but my son is taking me out today."

She pointed to a young man wearing a red shirt with a rooster on it and a slogan.

I squinted to make out the words. Ah, yes. How thoughtful of sonny boy to select his "Big Cock" T-shirt for his outing with mom. At least he brought nice friends, a couple young girls who helped me get the stroller off the bus.

Then there were the siblings who were arguing about whether or not their house was haunted. After every argument, one of them said, "Yuh huh. Ask mom."

Which would have been a lot cuter if they weren't in their mid-20s.

It isn't all oddballs on the bus. They're just the ones who stand out. And sometimes the crazy lady is the nicest person on the bus, in spite of her angry Personality #2.

On our last bus trip, an older woman got on the crowded bus. No one stood to give her a seat. I was holding baby gargantuan, and the boys were crammed into one seat. Just as I was contemplating which of my children I would let swing from the handles like monkeys, a young woman got up and offered her seat. And proceeded to cuss the bloody hell out of her way to the back of the bus.

Which was nice, I thought. I mean, who else would give up her seat knowing she would get berated for it--by her own personality? She deserves a special place in heaven--or at least on the bus next time.

Now, technically, the crazy woman only had to scoot over to let the older lady sit down next to her, but then where the @#$! would angry personality #2 sit?

And I thought I had problems. If everything on your property ever breaks in the same week, take the bus. You'll never feel sorry for yourself again. Because some people are broken. And how are they supposed to fix that?