Real Stories From the L.A. Transit System
Ride the bus, get shit all over your neck: ask me how!
About 80 percent of the time, riding the bus in Los Angeles is uneventful. On the ride home through Sunset, it’s usually just me, and a couple of exhausted working class Hispanics who only want to catch a siesta before waking up for their next job in 2 hours. But then 20 percent of the time, some social miscreant will use the bus as their personal crazy-theater, and ruin the ride for the rest of us.
It was with this in mind that I noticed a man lumbering down the walkway, heavy-set and bleary eyed, intent on the seat beside me. He reeked of booze, but as the man was much larger than myself, and much drunker than myself, I chose to employ a strategy of polite ignorance. He leaned forward to the neck of an elderly Asian man sitting in front of us, and blew gently on the man, soft and playful, like a lover. I was quite puzzled to witness this ruse, as most bus hi-jinx I’d seen consisted of fairly self-contained crazed shouting either praising the Lord, or condemning the government, and in some cases, both.
The Asian man scowled a bit, but continued looking forward. As if going in for another drunken lover’s waft, this time ol’ boozer leaned up and hocked a huge throat loogie all over the Asian dude’s neck. Esophageal snot slid down into the old man’s collar like raw egg. In silent defeat, the old man stood up and exited at the next stop. No sooner had the old guy excused himself, than I felt a ¾ full can get shoved into my hand.
“Hold this,” the guy mumbled. I looked down, and it was Budweiser and Clamato, which is a combination of two shitty things that are in high enough demand to create a single shitty product out of. I immediately shoved the beer back in his hand and said, “Ah sorry dude, this is my stop.”
Surprisingly, he stood up to let me through, and in the process lost his footing and fell back about four feet, spilling Budweiser and Clamato onto a floor already layered with the sticky remains of various questionable public fluids. The bus let me off, and I was thankful to have survived another Los Angeles bus ride with no shit on my neck.
About 80 percent of the time, riding the bus in Los Angeles is uneventful. On the ride home through Sunset, it’s usually just me, and a couple of exhausted working class Hispanics who only want to catch a siesta before waking up for their next job in 2 hours. But then 20 percent of the time, some social miscreant will use the bus as their personal crazy-theater, and ruin the ride for the rest of us.
It was with this in mind that I noticed a man lumbering down the walkway, heavy-set and bleary eyed, intent on the seat beside me. He reeked of booze, but as the man was much larger than myself, and much drunker than myself, I chose to employ a strategy of polite ignorance. He leaned forward to the neck of an elderly Asian man sitting in front of us, and blew gently on the man, soft and playful, like a lover. I was quite puzzled to witness this ruse, as most bus hi-jinx I’d seen consisted of fairly self-contained crazed shouting either praising the Lord, or condemning the government, and in some cases, both.
The Asian man scowled a bit, but continued looking forward. As if going in for another drunken lover’s waft, this time ol’ boozer leaned up and hocked a huge throat loogie all over the Asian dude’s neck. Esophageal snot slid down into the old man’s collar like raw egg. In silent defeat, the old man stood up and exited at the next stop. No sooner had the old guy excused himself, than I felt a ¾ full can get shoved into my hand.
“Hold this,” the guy mumbled. I looked down, and it was Budweiser and Clamato, which is a combination of two shitty things that are in high enough demand to create a single shitty product out of. I immediately shoved the beer back in his hand and said, “Ah sorry dude, this is my stop.”
Surprisingly, he stood up to let me through, and in the process lost his footing and fell back about four feet, spilling Budweiser and Clamato onto a floor already layered with the sticky remains of various questionable public fluids. The bus let me off, and I was thankful to have survived another Los Angeles bus ride with no shit on my neck.
Labels: Thug Life
posted by Clem Rorsch at
Thursday, April 03, 2008
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