The French Fry Kid

One lucky little boy on the bus one afternoon had a happy meal for his after school snack. He was so psyched. He was running his little toy car around on the back of the bus seats, smearing ketchup on his pants, dropping the box on the floor every so often and making mommy pick it up - even more fun than advertised. His mom was busily chatting away on her cell, turning away periodically, as though if she didn't see it, it didn't exist, and she could get on with her life with whoever was on the phone. Periodically she would turn back and issue an elided spate of orders and philosophical inquiry (sit-down-don't-you-look-at-me-like-that-stop-dropping-everything-didn't-I-just-buy-you-those-pants-why-can't-you-BEHAVE). Baby sister (4 or 5 months old maybe?) is sitting in the middle of all of this in her car seat, kind of dazed, looking around at all the interesting folks on the bus and - annoyingly enough to him - almost pointedly ignoring her older brother's antics. This is when the real fun started.

Ever have one of those busy boxes as a child with the different-shaped holes for various blocks? Like square, circle, triangle, etc? Sure you did - that's why you know how hard it is to put a square peg into a round hole. You TRIED it. Well, it occurred to happy meal Harry that his sisters nostrils were curiously similarly sized to his french fries. Soon after this revelation - and it was a revelation, replete with flash bulb in his eyes, an angel choir and an almost imperceptible cry of "Eureka!" - the clinical trials began. Now, the next time chatty mommy turned away, his evil grin grew large, he grasped the nearest fry in the box and slipped it quickly, and quietly, up his sisters nose. At first, the baby pretended not to notice. The indignity of it all. I'd be so peeved, sitting on a bus minding my own business, not having the motor control to remove a fry hanging out of my honker. Suddenly, mom started turning back to check what fresh new horror she had to deal with - and the boy quicker than lightning withdrew the offending spud - then smiled innocently. That should have been enough of a tip-off. Upon her turning away, it occurred to the boy that he might have success with a second foray - so he slipped the first one back in, and then - ta-da! Two! Two french fries up the nose! Now the baby was NOT going to stand for this additional humiliation, plus she was having a little trouble breathing through her mouth as the fries were pretty long and also probably beginning to sting her nasal passages... and the klaxon rang out - alerting the whole bus to her plight.

I thought - Imagine you hadn't seen the lead up. You're just standing on a packed bus at rush hour and all of a sudden you see a baby sitting there with french fries up her nose. Believe it or not folks, the ONE person who didn't turn around immediately was mom. So the kid gets all proud and in a Vanna White moment actually points to the baby and claims responsibility. In the midst of this bravado he was still alert enough to detect his mothers attention forming, and zip! Pulled the fries back out JUST as she was turning around. She scoops up the baby, finally hangs up the phone with an, "I've got to go the baby's acting up" - and does in fact scoop up the indignant and salty little cherub.

So what next? Well, I'll leave the ending of this one up to you, readers. Guess whether or not he actually ate them?

Crazy Stripper Dance Lady

One typically overcrowded bus evening, I'm standing in the way back of the bus, and I see a young woman get on the stop after me. Tight bedazzled jeans, tight pink flashdance-looking t-shirt, no bra, and very large, er, endowment hanging down almost to her waist. Crazy looking enough. She's standing there pretty quietly and courteously moving back on the packed bus to accommodate newcomers, but you can see trouble in her eyes. With no apparent impetus, she starts thrashing around and leaning back while holding on to the back of the seat she's standing next to, as if she's hanging on to a pole. Shaking her butt, gyrating, setting her endowment in motion - the whole enchilada. Inbetween really intense moments she almost seemed to be counting or remembering steps from a routine. And then she stops. And then she does it again. So I'm figuring - I must not be seeing it - she has to have a single headphone in and her phone or iPod is in her pocket. And the refrain for the particular tune she's listening to must be REALLY freaking good. And/or Crazy Eyes Cara here is just daring someone to say something because you know, there are some days when you just hope someone will mess with you so you can take your particular brand of struggle out on them. It was a little gross with the no bra thing, and I kept thinking, oh God, I hope that shirt holds out.

I was really trying not to giggle, as I said, imagining that part of her saying, "I dare any one of you to laugh and I will EFF you up" - watch me be the schlemiel who sets her off. I think what was really making me want to laugh was the total abandon with which she let loose. Sometimes I wish I cared that little about other people's perceptions of me. Then again, it must have been a real bummer for the older woman sitting in the seat she was grabbing, and for the folks standing around her trying to remain upright while she "created space" around her.

At some point, the song must have ended, because easy-as-you-please she sort of gracefully floated out the back door. I half expect to see her on the next episode of "So you think you can dance" and then I can say, "hey, I knew her when she was just a bus-dancing amateur."

From the Back of the Bus

Mass Transit in NYC is its own event. I defy any Olympian to have the stamina, the fortitude to fight their way through the...

Waiting
Weather
Hordes
Attitudes
Germs
Surfing
Braking
Body Odor (incl. dirty stench and perfume stench)
Rats
Flooding (incl. dripping)
Construction
Crowding
Fares
Garbage
iPod Noise
Kid Noise
Rude Noise
Noise Noise

While these things may make taking the bus or train seem like a bad deal - the trip is often tempered by entertainment of one kind or another. It's also pretty convenient not to get a $95 parking ticket every time you need to go somewhere - but that's the subject of another blog. Perhaps because I was an anthropology major, I end up feeling a bit like a participant observer most times I enter the transit world. You are now reading the culmination of many months (years?) of saved, unembellished, stories of transit adventure. Feel free to comment back with your own.