Repost for 20SB Blog Carnival : Bus Presence

This post is a part of 20SB’s Looking Back Blog Carnival, and Ben & Jerry’s is awarding free ice cream to lucky bloggers and readers!

Hi all, I’m reposting this because I’ve never entered a blog carnival (in fact, I just found out what it was yesterday, so although I haven’t been blogging long, I’ll post one of my first entries, about a daunting bus ride. I like providing things for people to laugh at, and the free ice cream is definitely a bonus, so enjoy!

If you want to learn more about the carnival, click here for the details. :*)

–Beez
_______________________________________

Since I don’t have a car, riding the bus has always been a thing of my life- I always have a bus schedule in my bag, and have CU-MTD (It’s separated for a reason- now shut it!) on speed dial, where you can call at anytime to see where the bus is, get put on hold to Weird Al’s “Another One Rides the Bus” for 1.5 minutes, and get the person on the line at the same time your bus is rounding the corner- thanks. The reason I write today is to offer an incentive to all of you to work on your “Bus Presence”- the way people see you as you ride public transportation. I know, we’re at the age to not care what people think and “do selves”- insert any pronoun here, but we are fully aware of the persona we portray when in public. For example, most of the time, I don’t like to be bothered on the way to work, so my bus presence is the “too busy for us with her iPod and smartphone” girl. You try, go on. Don’t all do it at once.

Not my bus, but you get the idea. Why is it so packed and everyone’s still smiling?


Annnnyyyyyy-whooooo, I was coming back from a Target run (I choose the red dot over the smiley on principle- sue me), when a few stops later, a man, a lady, and a baby get on. Harmless enough, right? Well, I thought so too, until it registered in my brain that the woman, man, or both smelled like cigarretes and bologna– eww much? Maybe my senses were off, but there was nowhere else for me to move, and since Mother Nature is currently shaking us up in her snowglobe called “Life, Muvva-Effas!”, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I called it “cig-aloney” for the duration of my trip.

A bit of the way, I heard a noise from the back. It sounded like a long, monotonous “Eeeeeeeeeeeee, *pause for breath* eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”, and I realized there was someone possibly with a mental/developmental condition. In the midst of the person “communicating” (could be that he wasn’t intentionnally doing it, but it didn’t sound like he was distressed or anything), “cigaloney” decided to turn her ugly arse face around.

Note- under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have been classified as ugly (no homo– hee hee!), but when your body possesses an odor that is “offensive to all five of the senses” ala Peter Griffin, you have revoked the right to your “cute girl discount.” I prayed that they would get off before me, and every stop closer to mine, they just didn’t budge. My prayer life incresed significantly during the bus ride- it just wasn’t right, I say! Anyway, when I got to my stop, I hopped off the bus so fast, I didn’t realize something fell out of my bag- stoopid hair products.

Moral of the story:
Just say no to cigaloney?
Um, don’t forget your iPod to serve as the prime distraction?
the wheels on the bus go round and round, despite all setbacks?

Okay, I got it:
No matter where I go, randomness will follow. Enjoy! Next up: a catalogue of guys in skinny jeans, well, maybe.

Subscribe. You know you wanna.

Bus Presence

Since I don’t have a car, riding the bus has always been a thing of my life- I always have a bus schedule in my bag, and have CU-MTD (It’s separated for a reason- now shut it!) on speed dial, where you can call at anytime to see where the bus is, get put on hold to Weird Al’s “Another One Rides the Bus” for 1.5 minutes, and get the person on the line at the same time your bus is rounding the corner- thanks. The reason I write today is to offer an incentive to all of you to work on your “Bus Presence”- the way people see you as you ride public transportation. I know, we’re at the age to not care what people think and “do selves”- insert any pronoun here, but we are fully aware of the persona we portray when in public. For example, most of the time, I don’t like to be bothered on the way to work, so my bus presence is the “too busy for us with her iPod and smartphone” girl. You try, go on. Don’t all do it at once.

Not my bus, but you get the idea. Why is it so packed and everyone’s still smiling?


Annnnyyyyyy-whooooo, I was coming back from a Target run (I choose the red dot over the smiley on principle- sue me), when a few stops later, a man, a lady, and a baby get on. Harmless enough, right? Well, I thought so too, until it registered in my brain that the woman, man, or both smelled like cigarretes and bologna– eww much? Maybe my senses were off, but there was nowhere else for me to move, and since Mother Nature is currently shaking us up in her snowglobe called “Life, Muvva-Effas!”, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I called it “cig-aloney” for the duration of my trip.

A bit of the way, I heard a noise from the back. It sounded like a long, monotonous “Eeeeeeeeeeeee, *pause for breath* eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”, and I realized there was someone possibly with a mental/developmental condition. In the midst of the person “communicating” (could be that he wasn’t intentionnally doing it, but it didn’t sound like he was distressed or anything), “cigaloney” decided to turn her ugly arse face around.

Note- under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have been classified as ugly (no homo– hee hee!), but when your body possesses an odor that is “offensive to all five of the senses” ala Peter Griffin, you have revoked the right to your “cute girl discount.” I prayed that they would get off before me, and every stop closer to mine, they just didn’t budge. My prayer life incresed significantly during the bus ride- it just wasn’t right, I say! Anyway, when I got to my stop, I hopped off the bus so fast, I didn’t realize something fell out of my bag- stoopid hair products.

Moral of the story:
Just say no to cigaloney?
Um, don’t forget your iPod to serve as the prime distraction?
the wheels on the bus go round and round, despite all setbacks?

Okay, I got it:
No matter where I go, randomness will follow. Enjoy! Next up: a catalogue of guys in skinny jeans, well, maybe.

Subscribe. You know you wanna.



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