on_the_bus Flowers from Safeway rt. 550 I watched two deaf girls converse in sign language. I was unaware how intently I was staring at a conversation I could not understand, until one of them shot me a look. I immediately looked away, embarrassed. But I continued to watch using the reflection in the glass. I pretended to gaze out the window, while actually watching her graceful gabby fingers. She caught me anyway. Can she feel me watching her with her heightened senses? I wonder why sensory impairments fascinate me so much. 031122 ... nootme sense_of_being_stared_at 031122 ... Dafremen straight_through_bus_stop_blues 031122 ... Flowers from Safeway rt #2 The Native American man in the back was close to passed out. He was in the very back lying down across three seats. His arm drooped down to the floor and he looked dangerously close to falling off. The relentless smell of booze filled the entire bus. Where is he going? Did he just get on the bus to warm up? When the bus reaches its last stop in Queen Anne, what will he do? The other people on the bus are saddened to look at him but cannot stop staring at him. I wonder to myself how the self-perpetuating "drunken indian" stereotype began. My people were so horrible to his people. I heard somewhere that native americans do not speak the names of the dead, lest they never reach the afterlife. And so the biggest insult is that we "honered" a great cheif by naming our fair city after him. Now every time the name is uttered he is surely rolling in his grave. 031123 ... endless desire but dont you think someone should just wake him up or talk to him or say hello? maybe nothings wrong. maybe he enjoys his bus naps. 031123 ... Flowers from Safeway Maybe. I just have this rule about waking strangers who smell like alcohol. A rule I've only had to break once (because he was sleeping in my car. My fault for leaving it unlocked all night.) 031123 ... gwyllynne you are either on_the_bus or you are off_the_bus you can't have it both ways....and often you don't get to decide 031123 ... Piso Mojado are you? cause the Merry Pranksters wont wait 031124 ... endless desire why do you have your rule? 031124 ... Flowers from Safeway rt #3: I hate the three. It's so crowded, and people can be so weird. So I'm standing up crammed against several other people, and holding onto the pole which is even scarier than the grocery cart handle. (shudder) So then this girl gets on, couldn't be more than 15 or 16, crams in next to me and starts flirting with me! And to top it all off, she's on the bus with her MOM! So there I am, trying to avoid eye contact, sharing a pole with this girl who is giving me goo goo eyes and trying to caress my hand with her index finger. I felt like saying: "So, putting aside the fact that my being with you is a FELONY, did you expect me to nail you here in front of your mom, or pick you up after school?" But I said nothing, just ignored the situation. Why are people so weird? Anyone? I know many of you are teenagers, but I would guess you don't try to pick up random men on crowded buses. Am I right? 031124 ... notme i only ever tried that when i was drunk when i was a teenager i mean 031124 ... bird got into it with the driver who saw me running to meet the bus from the building i stepped out of and shut the door as i caught it, opening it only because i caught it and was forcing it open he lectured me about being at the stop when the bus comes and decided to tell me, as if i would be impressed about how he leaves runners and anyone else not at the stop when he gets there as it were close enough to my stop that i wouldn't be too put out to walk the rest of the way, i said "Yeah, you're probably one of those jackasses who ignores the signal from connecting buses too, right?" predictably, he ordered me off at the stop just before mine, as i got off i made sure to loudly wish him a crappy thanksgiving 031124 ... Flowers from Safeway rt. 550 Quarter to eleven. No one on the bus but the driver and me. Still shaking off the show energy (and the bar_stench), I sat down and started talking to her. I usually sit alone in the back with my walkman, a book, pen and paper, or just my wacky ztupid thoughts. But I suppose I needed someone to talk to, even if it was just chit chat. We talked about holidays, and crazy shoppers and stuff, and turns out she has a son who's a puppeteer as well. So I told her about my work, and showed her the newspaper in my hand which had a picture of my show (along with a tepid review). It was the most I've spoken to a stranger in as long as I can remember. I don't know how I became so anti-social. Chatting with the bus driver shouldn't be such a significant thing. Maybe it's time to get some friends. 031130 ... Flowers from Safeway rt. #253 There was this sound... It was a gurgling kind of sound. But deep, almost mechanical. Kind of like when coffee makers are done grinding and make that weird gurgle... PERCOLATE! That's the word. When coffee makers begin to percolate. So I look around to see what someone could be holding that might make that sound. But I see nothing. Until I look to the front of the bus and notice a stout little woman who is gurgling loudly to herself. And just as I realize she is the source of the noise, she raises her hand to her mouth, reaches her fingers inside and removes a handful of solid mucus. Without hesitation, she places the gooey wad onto the front of her sweatshirt. It is then that I notice that she is absolutely COATED with the stuff, all the way down to her pants. I think it was the most nauseating sight I have ever seen. Cheers, to the little percolating woman. I hope she's feeling better. 031214 ... Flowers from Safeway rt. #230 Interesting how being boxed in on the bus can give one a subconscious awareness of the other passengers. You can feel them near you, and there is a noticable atmospheric change when one of your fellow transiteers exits the vehicle. When one of them is depressed, you can smell it, taste it even. The bitterness permeates the entire vessel lacking the proper ventilation to air out the emotional impurities. I wonder what it tastes like to others when I engage in my pathetic sulking. (It's also interesting I am only now noticing this bizarre bus clairvoyance. My perception seems heightened today, whether caused by holiday spirit or a neural visit from my old friend Seratonin, or by the quasi-tantric experience that brought me to forgotten levels of ecstasy last night. Either way, I have been walking around today in an etheral euphoric state of complete awareness.) The taste of depression is thick on the bus today, as I'm sure it must be often, yet I am just now aware of it. The people around me are shrouded in misery. They look very pale, as if the color in their faces has faded like the color in their worn thrift store clothing. It makes me want to get up out of my seat and shout at them "I've been there! I know what it feels like, and it does get better!" But it's far too long a bus ride to have people staring at me the whole trip. So I sit quietly by myself listening to my headphones and breathing in unfiltered second-hand despair. ...and I smile 031222 ... addicted to anonymity purr... keep bringing us tails, they move me. 031222 ... endless desire oh these are amazing safeway. i traveled on the bus the other day. to the doctor to find out what was wrong with me, once again. and we stepped out of the doctors office, only to remember that the car was heading to the emergency room with my younger brother. so we walked to the bus stop, slowing (low blood pressure) but merrily, only to find that there was a homeless person using the bench for a bed. i certainly didn't mind and sat down on the grass of the curb. my mum kept throwing nervous glances towards the homeless person, whether it was a boy or a girl, i couldn't tell, and we debated upon it later. i'm really not afraid of anyone, and i'm definately not afraid of someone who has no home. instead, i wish that i had a home to give them and i always swear to myself that one day, when i have my own home, i will ask these people over for a meal and a shower, at least. i'd love to have a conversation with them and hear about their life and how they got themselves into this particular situation, though i doubt they will want to share. anywho, the bus came in 20 minutes or so, and we were so obviously non-bus riders. i was terribly embarrassed really. my mum and i stood there trying to get our dollars in the machine for what seemed like an eternity, but was really only a few minutes. i suppose we should have been more prepared. i purposefully scanned the bus for a story. something to let my mind wander with and my eyes locked on julieanne. boy she was skinny now. this beautiful girl i went to elementary school. she has an amazing exotic look to her, and i wish i knew where she was from, besides mexico. i hadn't seen her in years and she gave me a small smile while i, of course, grinned wide-eyed and surprised. i wanted to say something. ask her how she was or why she wasn't at school or why she got off on euclid or why she was on the bus in the first place. i wanted to cry when i thought of all of the people i knew when i was younger who are in some high school right now wearing pants glued onto them and shirts that scare you away, sharp hip bones and eye make up. strange to see the girl you ate paste with now pregnant or the boy you chased on the field who smokes out during 5th. i guess i just wish everyone can stay young and innocent forever...or stay that way at least in my mind. 031223 ... des you know, she never turned around once. didn't even say goodbye. 031223 ... oldephebe these ARE amazing safeway, sort of like a trek into the urban equivelent of the West virginia appalachian hinterlands. It's like the intrepid indefagitable edward j murrow meets (...)please substitute your own nihilistic, ironic icon..I'm fresh out..still though i was riveted to every line...getting down with the real nitty gritty as it were..casting an unflinching eye upon the enclaves of just regular folk, existing at the demimonde of poverty, even most pedestrian act is frieghted with desperation and dignity. The air is painted heavily with desolation that reeks like a septic effluvium. Realy enjoyed everyones travelogue(s) Nicely done endless..you're a natural born writer... later, 031223 ... desire endless i still can't get over it. rt. #230 was incredible. somethings just hit you and you can't stop thinking about it. 031223 ... gwyllynne soo many ghosts 040105 ... bloody potato chip got_on_the_bus 040105 ... tyger Rt. 61 A, B and C. Sometimes the 501. I make it a point to sit next to the undesirables. You know, the fat, the deaf, the stringy looking black guys in the back, other weirdos. Because God knows that I have been an undesirable myself many times in my life. Somebody in this world has to sit by them and it might as well be someone who doesn't remind them with every glance and body posture that they aren't fit to even ride the bus with the perfect people, the "normals". 040106 ... minnesota_chris I like buses. On more than one occasion I have fallen in love while riding the bus. 040106 ... Lint Lover I could live on the tour bus 040529 what's it to you? who go blather from