Like an idiot, I didn’t bother with getting my learner’s license when I turned 16, and proceeded not to bother until 21. Now I regret it, because I have to take four or more individual bus trips four or more days of the week in order to get to university or work. The novelty wears out really fast. I also seem to be one of the only people who catches buses who isn’t an utterly moronic waste of oxygen.
1. I realise children have to get to school. That is what school buses are for. The implication being, ‘regular’ buses are not for schoolkids. So why are the buses always half full with schoolkids in the mornings and afternoons? And why do they not get up when adults (Not just me, I don’t mind standing) board the bus? Why do bus drivers continue allowing schoolchildren on buses that have ‘No Schoolchildren’ specified on the timetable, particularly when it means people who need to get to work have to wait for the next one, or the one after that? Fucking bus drivers will happily talk shit to you but when it comes to taking action they can’t even say no to schoolkids.
2. Speaking of bus drivers. Do not act like you are doing people a favour. You are doing your job and being paid for it; in fact you are doing it voluntarily. Do not roll your eyes when people aren’t sure exactly how many sections they’re traveling. Do not sigh and roll your eyes once someone wants to get on after you’ve closed the doors and are still at the stop. Do not get all pissy when someone signals you after you’d stopped a block down from where the bus stop is. Do not act like you have someplace else to be when someone asks you to open the back doors again because they couldn’t wade through the FUCKING SCHOOLKIDS fast enough to get there during the 5 second window. And especially do not hold me up and waste my fucking time thinking I’m using the wrong kind of dip-ticket to rip you off just because I’m young and have long hair, you fucking self-entitled smarmy cunts.
3. People in general. These are buses, not your personal chauffered luxury rock star tour buses. The tickets are cheap and you get what you pay for. Don’t get pissed off when the bus driver doesn’t open the doors at a non-dropoff stop even though you pressed the bell. Keep to your half of the bench seat. They are small, yes. However all but the widest people -can- fit on half of one, even on the window side. I have broad shoulders; this is not an invitation to get all snuggled up against my side, especially on a fucking bus. Similarly, do not take up two spaces unless the bus obviously has many other empty seats. I know you don’t want people sitting next to you. Boohoo. No one wants to sit next to you either. It’s going to happen though. Don’t keep your bag on the chair so you can act all indignant when someone asks you to move it. And speaking of taking up too much space…
4. Mothers and their goddamned SUV sized super limousine deluxe strollers. Children are not a disability, or at least, not one that isn’t a choice (like not having a leg), unless you’re a fucking idiot anyway. This does not entitle you to take up three spaces intended for disabled people for you and your giant mobile bedroom. It ESPECIALLY does not entitle you to make other people GET UP. I know those motherfuckers can fold up. FOLD THEM UP. PUT THEM IN THE STORAGE RACKS AT THE FRONT OF THE BUS. SIT WITH THE CHILD ON YOUR LAP. SPACE TAKEN: ONE.
What is it with some women thinking that becoming a mother makes her far superior and more entitled than the rest of us? I know you think having a child is special. It isn’t. Please understand that. Getting fucked and getting pregnant is not difficult. I imagine the childbirth is, however, you signed up for it when you got fucked and pregnant. Okay? Okay. Get over yourselves and get over your boring kids. And quit fucking with my bus rides.
*Hopefully I should not have to explain that making broad generalisations doesn’t mean they include everybody mentioned. I like to think people who bother to read my scrawlings can read between lines. You’re smart enough to do that, aren’t you? I know you are.
Bus Etiquette.
Like an idiot, I didn’t bother with getting my learner’s license when I turned 16, and proceeded not to bother until 21. Now I regret it, because I have to take four or more individual bus trips four or more days of the week in order to get to university or work. The novelty wears out really fast. I also seem to be one of the only people who catches buses who isn’t an utterly moronic waste of oxygen.
1. I realise children have to get to school. That is what school buses are for. The implication being, ‘regular’ buses are not for schoolkids. So why are the buses always half full with schoolkids in the mornings and afternoons? And why do they not get up when adults (Not just me, I don’t mind standing) board the bus? Why do bus drivers continue allowing schoolchildren on buses that have ‘No Schoolchildren’ specified on the timetable, particularly when it means people who need to get to work have to wait for the next one, or the one after that? Fucking bus drivers will happily talk shit to you but when it comes to taking action they can’t even say no to schoolkids.
2. Speaking of bus drivers. Do not act like you are doing people a favour. You are doing your job and being paid for it; in fact you are doing it voluntarily. Do not roll your eyes when people aren’t sure exactly how many sections they’re traveling. Do not sigh and roll your eyes once someone wants to get on after you’ve closed the doors and are still at the stop. Do not get all pissy when someone signals you after you’d stopped a block down from where the bus stop is. Do not act like you have someplace else to be when someone asks you to open the back doors again because they couldn’t wade through the FUCKING SCHOOLKIDS fast enough to get there during the 5 second window. And especially do not hold me up and waste my fucking time thinking I’m using the wrong kind of dip-ticket to rip you off just because I’m young and have long hair, you fucking self-entitled smarmy cunts.
3. People in general. These are buses, not your personal chauffered luxury rock star tour buses. The tickets are cheap and you get what you pay for. Don’t get pissed off when the bus driver doesn’t open the doors at a non-dropoff stop even though you pressed the bell. Keep to your half of the bench seat. They are small, yes. However all but the widest people -can- fit on half of one, even on the window side. I have broad shoulders; this is not an invitation to get all snuggled up against my side, especially on a fucking bus. Similarly, do not take up two spaces unless the bus obviously has many other empty seats. I know you don’t want people sitting next to you. Boohoo. No one wants to sit next to you either. It’s going to happen though. Don’t keep your bag on the chair so you can act all indignant when someone asks you to move it. And speaking of taking up too much space…
4. Mothers and their goddamned SUV sized super limousine deluxe strollers. Children are not a disability, or at least, not one that isn’t a choice (like not having a leg), unless you’re a fucking idiot anyway. This does not entitle you to take up three spaces intended for disabled people for you and your giant mobile bedroom. It ESPECIALLY does not entitle you to make other people GET UP. I know those motherfuckers can fold up. FOLD THEM UP. PUT THEM IN THE STORAGE RACKS AT THE FRONT OF THE BUS. SIT WITH THE CHILD ON YOUR LAP. SPACE TAKEN: ONE.
What is it with some women thinking that becoming a mother makes her far superior and more entitled than the rest of us? I know you think having a child is special. It isn’t. Please understand that. Getting fucked and getting pregnant is not difficult. I imagine the childbirth is, however, you signed up for it when you got fucked and pregnant. Okay? Okay. Get over yourselves and get over your boring kids. And quit fucking with my bus rides.
*Hopefully I should not have to explain that making broad generalisations doesn’t mean they include everybody mentioned. I like to think people who bother to read my scrawlings can read between lines. You’re smart enough to do that, aren’t you? I know you are.