Very, very busy at the park 'n' ride today. So busy, in fact, that I had to squeeze into a questionable spot right up against the crosswalk. (But I think I'm OK.)
My rookie year of bus commutership is moving toward fall, which so far appears to be marked with rain and very crowded buses. I am, as I write this, sitting in the undesirable middle seats on the hinge of the double bus. I have only some vinyl between me and the outside, and the seats are neither as sturdy nor as padded as the others. I don't mind it here, though. Legroom is usually decent, and only once has someone sat next to me, so I can sit next to my Ultimate Gulp and relax. It's noisy, but I've got the noise-canceling headphones to address that.
The one thing that's kind of a bitch no matter where you are in the bus is a driver who slams on the brakes. I don't mind when they go fast, though it can get a little bumpy. Who am I kidding? It gets a lot bumpy. I half-expect my kidneys to get slammed up to north of my lungs. But the real sucky part is when the driver has to slam on the brakes. I've not experienced rubber-burning skids, but I have experienced the kinds of stops and slowdowns that send bags flying into aisles. And riders, if they're not careful. I wonder if the driver is ever tempted to hit the brakes a little too hard just to fuck with us. We're his little puppets, stringless and prone to flying about.
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