Porphyrogene!

Yesterday I rode the bus home.  I’ve been forced to solicit public transportation for the past couple of weeks because my husband and I only have one car, it is manual, he drives it to work, and he doesn’t get home [these days] till 8:30 p.m.   Unless I want to spend 13 hours a day in the office, I must succumb to the Pittsburgh Bus system.

Taking public transportation - and busses in particular - makes me anxious.  In fact, the whole idea of taking a bus makes me so antsy that, while riding home yesterday - standing, clinging to a pole that who KNOWS how many people have touched with who KNOWS what on their hands -  I considered the notion that I might have a complex about it.

Intrigued, I tried to recall when this anxiety started… while attempting to studiously ignore the undergraduate business major standing across from me who was trying to make dreaded eye contact. 
I think it may have started very early - 3rd grade is the earliest I can remember a date associated with a bus ride.  I remember it distinctly for two reasons: 1) It was the first day of school. 2) A pre-school aged girl who lived down the street from me punched me in the face.

I think that is the moment that any and all fondess I ever had for riding on busses leaked out of me with my tears of indignation and pain.

From then on I think I was always anxious about riding on busses - my mother was horrified at the idea that her daughter was punched in the face, and forever after decided to drive me to and from school.  If I ever did have to take a school bus home, I always had what felt like mutant carnivorous butterflies in my stomach the whole time.  I walked to school in high school, and I went to a small college with a small campus - no busses necessary.

Flash forward - Now they are necessary; necessary to my being able to get home, heat up some left over pizza, change into sweatpants in front of my voyeuristic cats, and fight the loneliness with yet another viewing of Gilmore Girls.

My bus comes at 5:26 p.m.  I head out to the stop at 5:10 and wait the 20 minutes just to be sure that I don’t miss the bus should it come 20 minutes early… which it never has.  Now, I’m a people person - I like to meet new people, I like to talk to new people, I like to make friends, and I consider myself fairly confidant.  However - there are times when I just want to reside in a personal bubble and standing at the bus stop, fighting back the feeling of mutant butterflies and nausea, is one of those times.  Then again, standing alone, staring down the street, willing the bus to come sooner makes me awkwardly conscious of the fact that I’m talking to no one, making no eye contact, and just generally being anti-social.  No one is making me feel guilty for not addressing them, it’s just a talent I seem to have for evoking self-addressed guilt.  However, on Tuesdays I’m verbally assaulted by a friendly, well-meaning, male, undergraduate business major who will NOT let our one-sided conversations drop.

Him: So… where are you from?
Me: Northern New Jersey
*awkward pause*
Him: So… do you go to school here?
Me: No
*awkward pause*
Him: Do you… work here?
Me: Yes
*ap*
Him: worked here for long?
Me: 7 months.
*ap*
Him: so not that long, huh?
Me: Nope.

This continues till the bus comes, and I rush on, and he follows (because of course he takes the same bus I do) and then I studiously avoid eye contact with him the whole way to my stop.  After relaying this conversation to friends, I’ve been told I’m too friendly - too nice.  I’ve been encouraged to give a "death stare" or pretend to be involved in a cell phone conversation, even if the cell phone is dead because I’ve forgotten to charge it for the last week, or listen to my ipod even if the ipod is dead because I’ve forgotten to charge it for the last week.  However, I can’t bring myself to be outright rude to this kid - afterall he’s not hurting anyone and I’m not exactly wearing a flashing neon sign that says "Bugger off! I’m tired. I’m grumpy. I just want to go home. And besides, I’m married so I’m freaking UNAVAILABLE. Go talk to that girl with the thong sticking out of the back of her pants." So I’m nice to him with my brilliant, engaging, one to two word answers. 

 So if you see a young woman with awkwardly short bangs standing a bit away from the crowd at the bus stop - don’t try to engage her in conversation. 

 
It’s not you, it’s me.
I just don’t like riding the bus.