Summertime Bus Characters
Summer in New York City. Ah, nothing conjures up the feeling of dank humidity soaking one’s skin more than those words. Yes, summer in New York is that special time when the midtown streets exude their unique perfume of human urine and horse feces. When garbage bags gently bake in the noonday sun outside restaurants and emit fluids of an unearthly nature. When tourists aimlessly wander the streets in a pose not unlike that of a fowl receiving gavage as their children tug at their Habana shorts demanding Mr. Softee or pointing at “that man sleeping on the ground”. Ah, summer. That magical time.
Where was I?
Oh yes, summertime on the express bus. Those who are long time readers will recall the springtime celebration of bus driving characters and the winter tale of the Line Lady. Summertime brings on a new hue to those characters. Maybe it’s the heat. Maybe it’s the altered traffic patterns. Whatever it is, summer has changed the character of the commute.
For instance: two nights in a row this week I experienced an entirely new bus driving archetype. I’ve also had him a few times in the morning recently. His name? “Sammy The Seat Auctioneer”. Sammy is a particularly annoying breed of bus driver. While his actual driving may fall into any of the previously detailed categories, he has a curious and annoying tic: as his bus fills up he demands to know how many empty seats remain as he arrives at each stop. And he does so in a grating, auctioneer-like fashion. “How many seats we got left people c’mon how many seats we got left let’s see some hands raise your hands if you got a empty seat next to you let’s see how many seats we got left.” (Doors open, Sammy addresses the incoming parishioners) “We got seven seats left folks seven seats left c’mon step to the back we got seven seats left” (Doors close, silence drops over the bus until we’re within 100 yards of the next stop) “How many seats we got left people c’mon let me see gotta know how many seats we got left….” And so on until we hit the Verrazano Bridge (in the morning) or the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel (in the evening).
I never raise my hand. I’m not going to aid and abet this bastard in disturbing my nap. I wear sunglasses on the bus so nobody knows if I’m awake or asleep. Screw ‘em. Get on the bus and take your chances like the rest of us.
Speaking of seats, the Line Lady has been exhibiting a new behavior lately. I call it “Seat choice psychosis”. Many mornings recently I watched her get on the bus and freeze. She has a favorite seat four rows from the front on the right and if that is already occupied she doesn’t know what to do. I’ve seen her switch seats two to three times before settling into one. And once she does, God help the person who sits in front of her if they tilt their seat back. This morning we nearly had a major incident as Line Lady told the person in front of her how much reclining was permissible. While I agree in principle (I recline either not at all or a slight amount) the X-bus seats are not as cramped as say, the average coach seat on a commercial flight so if someone over-reclines into me I can deal with it although I will often lean whatever I might be reading on the top of their head or sneeze a few times. That often gets the job done without verbal communication.
I fear the Line Lady’s seat psychosis may be advancing into whole bus psychosis. The other morning she was waiting for the bus and chose not to get on when it came. As I looked out the window and saw her staring down the boulevard to see where the next bus was I wondered what prevented her from getting on the one I took. Was it a bad number? Was she looking for a particular driver? Or avoiding one?
Whatever it was she was smart. My bus had a fender-bender coming out of the tunnel and I had to walk to the 1 train and take that to work instead of snoozing in the AC on the bus. That Line Lady is a psychic. Maybe.
Where was I?
Oh yes, summertime on the express bus. Those who are long time readers will recall the springtime celebration of bus driving characters and the winter tale of the Line Lady. Summertime brings on a new hue to those characters. Maybe it’s the heat. Maybe it’s the altered traffic patterns. Whatever it is, summer has changed the character of the commute.
For instance: two nights in a row this week I experienced an entirely new bus driving archetype. I’ve also had him a few times in the morning recently. His name? “Sammy The Seat Auctioneer”. Sammy is a particularly annoying breed of bus driver. While his actual driving may fall into any of the previously detailed categories, he has a curious and annoying tic: as his bus fills up he demands to know how many empty seats remain as he arrives at each stop. And he does so in a grating, auctioneer-like fashion. “How many seats we got left people c’mon how many seats we got left let’s see some hands raise your hands if you got a empty seat next to you let’s see how many seats we got left.” (Doors open, Sammy addresses the incoming parishioners) “We got seven seats left folks seven seats left c’mon step to the back we got seven seats left” (Doors close, silence drops over the bus until we’re within 100 yards of the next stop) “How many seats we got left people c’mon let me see gotta know how many seats we got left….” And so on until we hit the Verrazano Bridge (in the morning) or the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel (in the evening).
I never raise my hand. I’m not going to aid and abet this bastard in disturbing my nap. I wear sunglasses on the bus so nobody knows if I’m awake or asleep. Screw ‘em. Get on the bus and take your chances like the rest of us.
Speaking of seats, the Line Lady has been exhibiting a new behavior lately. I call it “Seat choice psychosis”. Many mornings recently I watched her get on the bus and freeze. She has a favorite seat four rows from the front on the right and if that is already occupied she doesn’t know what to do. I’ve seen her switch seats two to three times before settling into one. And once she does, God help the person who sits in front of her if they tilt their seat back. This morning we nearly had a major incident as Line Lady told the person in front of her how much reclining was permissible. While I agree in principle (I recline either not at all or a slight amount) the X-bus seats are not as cramped as say, the average coach seat on a commercial flight so if someone over-reclines into me I can deal with it although I will often lean whatever I might be reading on the top of their head or sneeze a few times. That often gets the job done without verbal communication.
I fear the Line Lady’s seat psychosis may be advancing into whole bus psychosis. The other morning she was waiting for the bus and chose not to get on when it came. As I looked out the window and saw her staring down the boulevard to see where the next bus was I wondered what prevented her from getting on the one I took. Was it a bad number? Was she looking for a particular driver? Or avoiding one?
Whatever it was she was smart. My bus had a fender-bender coming out of the tunnel and I had to walk to the 1 train and take that to work instead of snoozing in the AC on the bus. That Line Lady is a psychic. Maybe.
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