A Bus Ride

Last night I walked home and left my car at work. I was planning to walk back to work this morning, but my walk last night (and the falafel) tired me out and when I woke up this morning I decided I would take the bus.

Now taking the bus is something I talk about a lot more than I do. I often plan to catch a bus somewhere on a journey, but end up walking the whole way instead. This morning I purposely did not even start walking in the direction of work, rather I walked down the hill to the bus stop on Ahuza. A few minutes later the 502 arrived, I paid my 7.90NIS and found a seat on the nearly empty bus. It was 5:55am after all. The next bus stop is at Tiv Taam on the corner. We stop and someone chats to the bus driver from the road. This seems to take a long time. Why soon becomes apparent. A huge dark man climbs up carrying a huge duffel bag. He plonks it on the first seat next to the driver, meanders down the stairs and drags a second massive bag onto the bus. He throws this one on top of its brother and sits down in the seat behind his bags. Its clear from his dazed smile and jerky movements that he is not playing with a completely full deck (probably around 37 cents short of a dollar).

Off we lurch to the next stop. Three people get on. The first, an old lady of clearly Eastern European decent has a look on her face that could curdle milk. She looks down her nose at the bags on the first seat and shouts "Move these bags immediately, I want to sit here!" Now remember, there are maybe eight people on the bus. The bag dude stiffens immediately and becomes completely irate. He starts a muffled yelling. The old fish wife is shouting how she want to sit in that seat and that it's her right. Then, she reaches over and grabs the top bag. With this, the bag man thrusts his huge body into the aisle and clumsily raises an arm in what could possibly be a threatening gesture. Now the shrew really lets go and starts screaming on the top of her voice ("come see the violence inherent in the system, help, help, I'm being oppressed"). The bus driver then stops the bus in the middle of the street, gets up and takes control. He calmly makes it clear that if they do not stop shouting he will throw both off the bus. He helps the bag dude move his bags to the second seat. An uneasy calm returns to the 502. The old lady is muttering, the bag dude is muttering, the driver is muttering.

I have to take the bus more often.