My Last Bus Ride

I've long been a fan of public transportation, whether it's for the convenience of having someone else deal with the stressful driving, or for the sake of "going green" and saving limited resources, or for the cost effectiveness of saving money. I get teased about it, but I actually like to take the bus.

Today, I made the choice to take the city bus into Seattle so that Binta and I could enjoy the downtown area during the holiday. All of the above reasons applied, including the bonus fact that Binta and I see it as a "treat." Yes, it takes longer than driving myself, but that time is private time that we get together, to talk, snuggle, and play word games with no interruptions or distractions from the TV.

During our return trip home tonight, I became aware of a very disturbed individual sitting next to us. He looked at me and was mumbling something, something that sounded like the words "sorry" and "blood." I asked him if he was ok. He was clearly either high or drunk or both.

My immediate desire was to get far away from him. Unfortunately, I was traveling on a bus that was packed to capacity (or perhaps over capacity). So many buses had been having trouble due to the poor road conditions, that all the buses that were running were severely overcrowded. To complicate that, we were traveling on the freeway, with no stops in the near future.

I made eye contact with a guy I had spoken with back at the bus stop and leaned forward to tell him I was feeling uncomfortable. He understood and nodded; then shrugged when I indicated that I was considering moving towards the front of the bus. It looked impossible.

Here's where the reader will likely be thinking, "I wouldn't have cared if the bus was packed and it was traveling down the freeway. I would have done anything to get away from that guy."

I guess my only explanation is this. Sometimes making an action can be as scary as not making an action. In tonight's case, that's what I was experiencing. I was terrified sitting near this individual. I was equally terrified, to the point of being frozen in my seat, of what might happen if I were to try to move up to the front of the bus.

My deepest thanks go to Ryan, the guy I mentioned before. He engaged me in conversation that gave me something to do while I sat in fear. He continually kept his eyes on our neighbor, and flashed me reassuring looks while we talked. Binta, completely unaware of what was going on, was thrilled to find a new friend in Ryan, someone she could talk with.

Every time the guy reached into a pocket of his coat, I felt my breathing quicken. What would he pull out? I felt waves of heat pulsing from my head to my chest, and I quite literally felt like I was going to vomit.

After the first stop, Ryan, Binta and I were able to shuffle ourselves forward a few spots on the bus. When we were about 15 minutes away from our stop, a guy behind me suggested that I lift my packages up from the floor, because the creepy guy had urinated on the floor. Sure enough, his pants were unzipped.

I got us off the bus a few stops earlier than I would have liked. Upon leaving the bus, a lady informed the driver that a guy had pissed on the floor in the back of the bus. His response? "Yeah, I know. I've reported it."

I walked into the front door of my house and fastened all of the locks. I realized that my temperature had gone from burning hot adrenaline on the bus, to frigid cold, including shaking. Every single muscle that I can identify (and some that I can't) is tense and fatigued. I took a bubble bath and drank a glass of wine in an attempt to calm myself down.

And now my daughter is in bed and I find that I cannot stop crying.

Since when did the choice to utilize public transportation result in forfeiting one's personal safety?

What about the people who use public transportation not out of choice, but out of necessity? Do they not deserve the right to feel safe as they travel from work to home?

In so many ways, I feel that I am very lucky to be able to say that tonight, I took my last bus ride.