Here's a transcript from my personal encounter with Crazy Bus Rider no.413. This happened about a week ago, on Route 16 to downtown.
I climb aboard a full bus and look for an open spot. There's only one, of course, but I don't really look at the person sitting next to it. My mistake.
I sit down. I can feel guy examining me though I stare straight ahead with my sunglasses on. He has dark hair and looks like an extra from the T.V. show Happy Days. You know, a guy who thinks he's best friends with Fonzie, but really isn't.
Crazy Bus Rider: Is your name Jenny?
Me (smile and shake my head): No.
CBR: Good! Because I HATE that name!
Oh, dear Jesus, I think.
CBR: Is it Jody?
Me: No.
CBR: Pam?
Me: No.
CBR: Tiffany?
I shake my head, swearing to myself that the next name he says I will burst out and say, "Oh my God, that IS my name! How did you know?"
CBR: Okay, nevermind, I'll be nice now.
But he keeps staring at me. So I do the only thing I can think of. I slowly slide my left hand up onto my bag so that he can see my wedding ring. He can see I'm married and I hope he will stop bugging me. It's also quite obvious that I'm pregnant and I think, "Look! Look! You dumb moon-faced boob!"
Luckily, I get off at the next stop, and I realize you just can't get these kind of experiences driving by yourself in a car.
When I open the paper that evening I start looking at car ads....
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