Bus Stop

Things have been hard lately. That's pretty much the understatement of the year. But I always figured if you could laugh during the tough times, then you can get through to the other side. Not unscathed. Never unscathed. But at least in a semi-functioning condition. In a state you might be able to put yourself back together in.

Last Thursday I rode the bus for the first time in over a year. There I was, urgently needing to get from point A to point B, with only the 257 standing between me and where I wanted to be. I didn't even know how much it cost to ride the bus. I remember when bus fare cost a dollar twenty-five. No joke. A buck and a quarter. Since I know it is no longer 1995, I had to ask someone, and the bus driver hadn't opened the doors yet. Also, I hate to be one of those people holding up production for others.

And, in the state I was in, I really didn't need anyone mumbling snarky comments about having my money ready. I might have snapped. And snapping in public never seems like a wise idea.

So, I turned to the guy next to me and asked, "Excuse me, do you know how much it costs to ride the bus?"

He looked at me, dead in the eye, and replied, "Four dollars for adults, but I don't know how much for youth."

I smiled, because I'm fairly certain I look over nineteen. "I'm older than you think I am."

Still, it was a ray of sunshine on a very gloomy day.

To be honest with you, I didn't miss transit. I didn't miss the crowd, the stink, the slowness. All in all, public transit is pretty much disgusting. Some people have enough respect to not be disgusting piglets or rude baboons, others are not so equipped with manners. Still, I got through it. Got to where I was going. And cried.

Today I took the bus again. Twice in the last week. Crazy.

The bus fare over here was $1.75.

That's island life for you. Cheaper bus fare and the scent of the forest when you open the door. Two things I am grateful for.