22 June 2011

#66 Bus

A sign reads "Fascist Sidewalk Closed"—the word fascist having been added by nameless party. At least he spelled it correctly.

3 May 2011

#66 bus stop @ Kingsely Street:

While I am waiting for the bus, a man walks down the sidewalk in front of me and runs directly into a tree. He very slowly backs up, fixes his hair, and moves on without the slightest hint that he knew I had seen or that he had not meant to do it.

11 April 2011

#57 bus, inbound:

A girl in a purple tank top talks animatedly on her phone. Less than five feet away, a man listens to his iPod and looks out the window. For almost 10 minutes, they ride together, neither acknowledging the other. At Beacon Street, the girl exits at the front of the bus while the man exits at the back door. Only after they step off the bus to they make eye contact. With an exclamation of surprise, the girl says, "I can't believe it! We missed each other again!" suggesting that this is not an uncommon occurrence. They exchange a few pleasantries and head in opposite directions.

9 April 2011

Red line, inbound:

On normal days (in normal cars) the distribution of people is approximately even—everyone spreads out to give everyone else equal space. Tonight, however, is not a normal night. And this is not a normal car. To my left, there are very few people, despite the train being crowded. A passenger who suddenly liked the music playing from his headphones a little too much has been break dancing in the aisle for the last three minutes and show no signs of stopping.

To my right, a man boards and slowly makes his way to the only vacant seat. I notice that people are giving him an abnormally wide berth, but cannot make out the reason why until I notice that his pet parrot is perched on his shoulder. When the man sits down, his bird climbs off the man's shoulder and into the crook of his arm after which the two promptly fall asleep for the remainder of my trip.

23 March 2011

#66 Bus - Inbound

A woman sits holding her extremely agitated son. He is perhaps 3 years old and does not cease to scream for the duration of the bus ride. For her part, the mother is frustrated but patient—firm but loving—in her treatment of what looks to be an extremely difficult situation.

We get off at the same stop. The woman attempts to walk with her son, but every few steps, he heaves himself on the ground and wails uncontrollably. During one of these tantrums, the mother attempts the walk-away, pretending to leave her son behind so that he will decide to follow. In response, the child leaps up and runs directly into Commonwealth Avenue (which, for those who don't know, is an extremely busy street at all times of day). The mother and I simultaneously, from opposite directions, sprint toward her son, waving off cars and drawing attention to him so that he doesn't get hit. We arrive at approximately the same time and she spends several moments trying to convince me that she's not a bad mother. I need no convincing as she has demonstrated patience above that which I would have been able to display in the same situation. After the encounter, I go back to the stop to wait for my connecting bus, and the mother walks away carrying her son firmly in her arms. He's still crying.

29 December 2010

Park Street Station:

I have sworn no fewer than 5 times at my 80 lbs of luggage that I've had to drag from transfer to transfer, from line to line (and which, I was just realizing, due to the hour, I would have to drag home instead of taking the bus which doesn't run past midnight). While waiting for the Alewife train to arrive and take me to Harvard Station, a couple on the other side of the tracks arrives. The guy carries a pizza box from which the girl takes a slice which she alternately consumes and feeds to the guy. Eventually they are approached by a (probably homeless) man. He does a double take at the pizza, stops, and says:

"Hey, can I have a slice of that?"

"Sure thing, brother," the guy replies. "Help yourself."

The homeless man watches as the pizza box lid is lifted, revealing a nearly whole pie. He reaches for a slice, but pauses momentarily.

"... Is it good?"

"Yes," they reassure him, "it's delicious."

Sufficiently satisfied with that answer, the man then takes a slice, thanks the couple multiple times, and walks off. It was a funny, quiet reminder to me that having a little more than I can conveniently carry is still infinitely better than being able to carry much more than I have.

2 December 2010

#66 Bus at Beacon Street:

The bus leaves the stop and moves forward several feet to stop at the red light. When the cross-traffic light turns yellow, he begins to inch out into the intersection. Simultaneous with the turning of his light comes a knock at the door. A man is standing in the middle of the street asking to be let in. The driver grumpily open the door and lets the man in who quickly proclaims, "One more coming!" and waves to the woman on the sidewalk.

At this, the driver reacts with anger: "No no no no no no. That's not how it works!"

He closes the door and drives away, leaving the woman standing about six feet away from the bus in the center of a lane of traffic. The man immediately pulls out his phone to call her with a sort of half-panicked look in his eye. Before the call connects, however, the bus pulls over at the next stop. The man hesitates, stands up, sits down, and stands up again, wondering whether he should get off and go back. In the end, he jumps to his feet and runs off the bus.

--Editor's Note--

The author would like to express how much he has enjoyed writing this blog. However, his ever-increasing work load has gotten the better of him. Thus, a change of rules is in order. Daily observations will be replaced with only occasional anecdotes of phenomenally obvious examples of bizarre behavior that would even catch the attention of a non-anthropomorphic sack of fruit. The author conveys his regrets as well as a fervent hope that you'll continue reading with as much fervor (albeit with less frequency) as you have previously displayed. Thank you.

The Editor

28 September 2010

#57 bus, inbound:

As the bus pulls away from a stop, a man begins to run down the street after it. This is no uncommon scene. However, when he catches the bus, he does not make any attempt to stop it. Instead he waves to a woman sitting near the rear exit. When she waves back, he stops running.

27 September 2010

Green line, Government Center Station:

A group of adolescents try to push their way onto an already full train. The first of about a dozen stops in front of a stroller that the rest don't see. Laughing, they start to push him forward. He objects, quietly at first, then a little louder, and finally with an outburst.

"Guys! ******! There's a ****** baby up here!"

Suddenly the mood of the horde changes. They quietly file past the mother and her child, looking at their feet. Only after they are well installed and are no longer endangering infants does their idiotic behavior resume.

26 September 2010

Red line, inbound:

The couple next to me discusses the future of a bag of sunflower seeds. Perhaps they should leave it behind. Or maybe he should hold it until they get there. Put it in this bag. Each possible solution was shot down, one by one, until he finally came up with the winning idea.

"I know, I'll wrap it in my shirt until we get outside."

He removes his shirt, wraps the bag of seeds in it, puts the bundle in a brown paper bag, and stows it under his seat. Contented, his partner offers no more resistance; this is apparently what she was searching for but could not verbalize. They ride in relative silence (and partial nudity) until I exit the train.

25 September 2010

Green line, inbound:

A very well-built man boards the train, takes an iron grip on one of the rails and spends perhaps five minutes examining the muscles in his arm. He flexes his bicep and admires it with no apparent shame. Now he is flexing each one of his fingers and studying the movement of the tendons up his arm for the movement of each one. Yet, while his interest may seem to be slightly scientific, his facial expressions reveal that his own physique impresses him very much.

23 September 2010

#66 Bus, inbound:

Today the 66 approaches an intersection and makes an unprotected left turn in the face of on-coming traffic. The "Boston Drivers" for all their fabled impatience slow down dutifully; not one of them touching their horns. This is something that happens every single day at most intersections in Boston. Everyone knows that commuter buses have eternal right-of-way.

22 September 2010

#57 bus, inbound:

I push my way through the clot of passengers who insist upon standing less than three feet from the entrance. As I do, I overhear two high school students talking.

"The next person who pushes past me, I'm gonna like [he makes a swiping motion with his elbow at face level], I swear."

"Ha! Yeah, seriously."

Three stops later, they both give up the seats they had found to the elderly couple who had just gotten on the bus. They smile politely at the thanks they receive and go back to standing in the front.

20 September 2010

Red line, Park Street Station:

When the doors open, the car I'm boarding is totally empty. I sit in the far corner on a bank of three seats with their backs to the window which face another bank of three seats across the aisle. The first occupant of the seats across from me is a single girl who sits down opposite me in the corner. Momentarily, a couple each carrying a backpack and a suitcase occupy the other two seats. They shuffle around, trying to arrange their luggage without losing anything, and end up inadvertently jostling their neighbor several times. With a huff, the first girl gets up and stomps off to the other side of the train. The girl with the suitcase looks at her, shocked, then looks at me. We break into smiles and chuckle silently across the aisle at the impatience of the recently departed. The next stop is mine. With a nod to my new friend I leave the train.

17 September 2010

Green line, outbound:

Another man boards the train with me. As I'm paying, we start to roll out of the station. When he swipes his card, a buzzer sounds indicating that its stored value is less than the fare due.

"I don't have any money," he says to the conductor. "Would you please let me slip by just this one time?"

The train operator apologizes and informs the man that he will have to get off the train at the next stop. The man offers no further plea or excuse. He exits the train several stops before he intended to.

16 September 2010

#57 bus, inbound:

A couple sits perpendicular to each other, she on a seat facing the side wall, and he facing the front of the bus. The woman has an elaborate tattoo covering one arm, a man who has been shot in the leg with an arrow bearing a colored banner that says "Esperanza". With her other arm, she reaches across the gap and grabs the hand of her companion, who is sitting holding leftovers from a meal in a styrofoam box. Neither looks at the other for my entire trip. They both look past each other, out their respective windows, hanging on to each other's hands.

15 September 2010

#57 bus, inbound:

A man boards the bus with some difficulty. He struggles to get a stroller with his daughter on board and around the many occupants who stand immovable, with characteristic selfishness. For her part, the man's daughter is enjoying the trip. She leans forward eagerly and energetically waves hello to every passenger with whom she makes eye contact.

13 September 2010

#66 bus, inbound:

A man boards the bus while on the phone. As he sits down, he loudly announces to the person on the other line that the seats on the bus are blue. The woman in front of him gets a strange look on her face, does a full, slow, 180-degree turn to look him in the eyes for about three seconds. Her face displays a combination of confusion, sarcasm, and derision. The man returns her gaze with no apparent effort and continues talking to his friend. He exits the bus several stops later still talking on the phone.

10 September 2010

#57 bus, outbound:

The girl sitting next to me receives a phone call. She has a peculiar accent that I can't place and she speaks with impeccable grammar. The man on the other end of the line is named Ken. He lives in Rhode Island and today is his birthday. He wants the girl to come down and visit him, but she has other plans in mind.

"I would, you know, but I can't. You see, my friend here in Boston is leaving town to go back to London tomorrow and, well he's from London and you're from Rhode Island..."

She left it hanging. The conversation ended quickly thereafter.