...and love it at the same time. First off, let's all wait for the can of sardines to be fully packed. All seats occupied PLUS around 10 people standing, holding on from those sweaty, greasy little attempts at anorexic stripper poles. Once full, the bus lazily starts rolling. This is a temporary excruciatingly slow speed, soon it is time for the driver to dare others, preferably cabs, to see who makes it first to the traffic light. Whenever a curve appears, the whole bus tilts to a side, making me feel it will fall on the side, windows crashing and blood spilling, the traffic laws be damned.
The chit chat inside is interesting at times, mostly gossip about people and places that the rest of the users don't know. The criminal pages of the newspaper too "Can you believe this? Where is this going to end?" how that news anchor that today appears to be so elegantly dressed started out speaking terribly, curling her back, seemingly trying to hide inside her jacket from the camera, like an awkward turtle. The same song keeps playing, the five minute long cumbia the driver just adores.
Half of the trip is very nice, a woman in her mid fourties hugs her bag next to me, her thigh just a couple of inches away from mine, both sharing a harmless, cozy warmth. Some people start coming down, the environment improves significantly, some seats are now free, except that huge box the girl reading a book has sitting next to her. A woman asks her to move the box, so she can sit. Book girl refuses, visibly offended. Right across, two people offer to squeeze themselves to the sides, so the woman can sit. Book girl doesn't find out, she is, again, paying close attention to her literature piece.
As the red light stops the traffic of our lane, a man asks permission to the driver to come up without paying. He soon starts reciting what must be an already memorized speech "Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, I am here not to intimidate, not to mug, not to harm, not to steal, I have done so in the past and payed my debt to society with five years and two months of prison, I now find myself unemployed, so I am not intimidating, I am not menacing, I am begging you please gift me a couple of coins so I can buy candy and sell it for a profit. I am clean now and only wish to make an honest living. God bless you, miss. Thank you, sir. If any of you have friends or family members who suffer from alcoholism or drug addiction, please aid them, as they will lead themselves to a dark hole, to crime, to despair, to prison or a dirty rehab house, which is hell on earth. For the love of god, help them. God bless you all" he comes down after collecting the coins right after the next traffic light.
Soon, the woman in her fourties exits the bus, and Fatso McIdon'tknowwhatpersonalspaceis sits next to me, pressing his adipose extremities against mine every time the bus takes a curve or accelerates, which is often. His temperature is getting on my nerves, as the sun decides to aid him, they both soon make me sweat. I press myself against the window to avoid any contact, in exchange finding the glass and metal a lot more hot. And a lot less disgusting to touch. Fortunately, the bus is half empty, and before I ask Fatso to let me stand so I can sit elsewhere, he leaves the bus and my life forever.
Speed bumps make the bosoms of all female passengers jump to the ceiling, or at least to try. Then there is a healthy sideways shake, it is almost a choreography, it is almost as if the bus wanted to make sure those are real flesh and fat lumps, nothing else.
The bus is nearly empty, a man comes in to be transported no more than two streets, must be terribly lazy, or get very tired very fast. Next to come down is a girl with a limp. One of her legs is thinner, shorter and curved in a way that makes most other passengers cringe. She takes a lot more time than others to climb down the steps, making some drivers behind start yelling and honking their horns. The driver, either used to this girl or simply more efficient at empathy than the drivers, soon invites them to stick a phallus up their rectums. I smile, the girl does too, limping away.
Finally I announce I am going to leave the bus to head home, of course, two streets before, of course, the driver stops two streets ahead. Thank god I am not there anymore.
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