By Spence Blazak
I don't ask for much out of my life. I just want a Diet Coke every day, to go to outer space at some point, meet Taylor Swift, and date a Kardashian for six weeks. I'm just like any other red blooded American male. Something that has been holding me back from this Gatsby-esque American Dream is the Rutgers Bus System.
I hate the bus. Hate, hate, hate it. Hearing its growl down the street makes me feel like the Grinch when he hears the Whos down in Whoville on Christmas Eve. Today, fair Wookiee fans, it is your lucky day. In the average week, I get a wide array of bus horror stories that are generally just heard by either my roommates or the sorry sacks of crap that happen to be right next to me when I get off of a EE. I yell these yarns. Frequently. And without further ado….a week in the life of a public transportation slave.
-------THE GREENHORN
I have perfected my game face for the bus. I don't want you to talk to me, and dammit, you aren't going to. Sadly, the average freshman greenhorn hasn't gotten a hold of this concept yet. Sitting, listening to Maroon 5, and minding my own P's and Q's, a pointed digit taps me on the deltoid. I lower my headphone, making my best Squidward face, wondering what I could be needed for.
"Can I sit here?"
What.
I respond: "….Knock yourself out"
The rest of the bus was empty.
-----SON OF THE GREENHORN
I am sitting, waiting for the accursed Busch/Cook Express Bus (the REXB) at a Busch Bus Stop. My iPod is pumping "California Love" by 2Pac, so I'm feeling pretty awesome. Then, a kid taps me on the shoulder.
Kid: "Yo, boy, do ya think I can, uh, catch one of those REXL buses here?"
The Livingston/Cook Express……he is asking me if you can get on one at Busch……
Me: "You'll see."
-----THE D-BAG FLIRT
I find myself, yet again, on the EE. A frat bro with surfer dude sunglasses and a LAX pinnie sits next to me. He starts flirting with the girl in front of him by nervously saying "You're in my Bio class, right?" I give him 75 seconds to blow it. I then look at his personalized pinnie name………..It says "MEATSPIN." In the words of my catchphrase that I'm trying to make stick, now I've seen everything.
On a side note, he blows it in about 58 seconds.
-----THE ROTC FLIRT
My iPod dies, and I'm stuck reading Catching Fire. Behind me, a kid starts flirting with a girl. Innocent enough, except that they are both yelling their conversation, and I can't help but listen to the entirety of it for the 15 minute bus ride back to my apartment. I hear everything about their major, their opinions on sports, how the guy lives in Woodville in South Jersey, how the girl is from East Bumble, Pennsylvania, and how they both enjoy Michael Jackson. At one point there girls says: "I didn't want to live on College Ave, because why would I want to shit where I eat?" May God have mercy on this generation.
I want to put a pen in my leg by the time I get off.
Flashforward 3 days. I'm waiting at the bus stop for the EE, but it will be a few minutes. After a moment or two, a kid next to me, seeing my ironic 2012 NFC Championship long sleeve tshirt, asks me for the conclusion of the Big Blue game the night before.
"Oh, uh, it ended with 41-34 in favor of the Giants. Great game."
"Ah, shit, I'm an Eagles fan, but good for you."
Pushing down my immediate hatred, I realize that his voice sounds familiar…….hmm, curious.
He then goes on to tell me about his hometown: Woodville, New Jersey. He asks if I've ever heard of it, and I say yes. Surprised, he inquires where I had heard of the small town.
I then have a dramatic and gargantuan flashback……..I had heard it from HIM on the bus a few days before. I tell him: "uh……sports….." My world just got way too small.
He then goes on to talk about sports with me, and I'm just waiting for him to tell me all the things I heard him say to that girl: he likes the Flyers and doesn't like baseball because there isn't enough contact. He says EXACTLY this. I'm living in a Twilight Zone episode.
We get to his stop and he departs, but I will never forget this time when I, Spence Blazak…..knew the future. I should have gotten some lottery numbers.
This post is dedicated to my friend Ruthie on her birthday, someone whose hatred for the bus system really and truly knows no bounds. In a beautiful way.
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