Anatomy of a Crowded Bus

I have a pretty big problem with crowded buses. Mostly because humankind does not understand how to behave in a logical manner aboard these vessels and instead adheres to some bizarre personal code of bus ethics that does nothing to facilitate the journey but makes me want to pull their hair.

When I'm stuck standing; I'm most likely flailing about as the driver engages in a passionate love triangle between foot, gas pedal and break. I remember fondly when I flew into the laps of four unsuspecting passengers, having failed to correctly calculate the complicated physics equation necessary to accurately grip the handrail looming inches outside of my normal range of grasp. But I don't really mind the gymnastics compared to the other bozos on board. Even my fellow standees won't unite in stand-dom and REFUSE to move to the back of the bus. People do this thing where they shift in place, look at the ground and wear a hapless, confused expression, like, "oh...well... I..uh....no where for me to..huh...pphhh." There is huffing and eye rolling when the they are ordered to the back by the driver or another brave standee that understands my plight. I make it a point to catch this persons eye and send him a knowing look and waves of gratitude, "I know! These people! The back! It's so simple! We could all fit!" We are one, me and this guy. It helps of course that my breasts are occasionally thrust into his shoulder but this is not awkward, this is the price of battle.

The other people to hate when you're standing are of course, those who are sitting down. Very few have the decency to stare out the window and allow you your visually unappealing struggle in private. No, most enjoy watching your misery. "Look at you, you minion. You wretched, seatless creature. My fortune so far exceeds yours. It is delightful!" Little do they know that as soon as one of their compatriots disembarks, we of the seatless masses will join their ranks post haste.

Unless of course you belong to the infuriating few who will continue to stand after a seat is vacated. There is not an elderly person or pregnant woman in sight, yet these people stand stoically beside this seat, waving away those who bring it to their attention. They fancy themselves martyrs. "Observe me, you others of lesser stock. Watch as I so bravely buffet about and refuse the comfort of a seat! You are so weak! You are so attached to your luxuries! I will suffer, I will triumph!" Yeah. Sit the Ffffffffff down. Seriously. There are no medals here; no one is handing out certificates for bus bravery. See how it works is, if you sit down, you free up some space, thereby allowing others to shift and even out the entire standing to sitting ratio on the bus. Displacement, maybe it's called? Distribution of volume? I don't know but sit your smug ass in that seat and wipe that holier than thou look off of your face. You will not make me feel guilty for sitting. Instead I will burn you with my fiery stares and hope that a violent stop sends you hurtling to the floor. 'Kay?

The real crux of crowded bus riding comes when your only choice for a seat are the few in the front that must be relinquished to the elderly and disabled. Whenever such an individual boards the bus you can see your fellow front seat holders nervously glancing at each other, wondering who will get up first. If I don't, will I look insensitive? Evil? Will I earn the hateful glances and exaggerated sighs of other passengers who think this is what's wrong with America everyone is so lazy they cannot get up for an old person on the bus? It's quite apparent that the elderly are not often accommodated by fellow seated passengers, and I'm sure that as a pregnant lady if you're not in labor then you're out of luck. If I am in the first seat and I stand immediately upon seeing Nana, she's inviting me over for tea and gingersnaps out of gratitude. And then there is the situation where I find myself at the back end of the front section, sitting down but behind a fortress of people. Then the stress heightens--if I get up then this elderly woman will have to elbow her way through this crowd, with her grocery cart, past the guy with the huge gut, under the teen with the ipod and over the hipster with a shoulder bag, in order to take over my seat. And then, why do I have to be responsible? What about that a-hole sitting in the first seat? YOU GET UP and that way I don't need to have palpitations over my civic responsibilities.

So what's clear here is that my bus riding skills are much more highly evolved than the majority of other Washingtonians. And until we are jetpacking to work or beaming our molecules from spot to spot, I'm going to sit when I can, stand when I have to and if you see me reaching to grab a fistful of hair from some one's ignorant bus riding head, talk me down, please?