To the man on the bus who offered me a vacant seat: thank you, that was very kind. Unfortunately, and I'm sure you weren't aware of this at the time, but I ended up next to an aging man who sighed every thirty seconds like he was about to explode.
To that man: do I offend? Are you claustrophobic? Were you late? Catch a cab next time, nobody wants to hear it.
To the superbitch whose confrontation I overheard: I would just call you a bitch, but I've ridden the bus with you before and you are a superbitch. You change seats at least five times per 20-minute bus trip, opening every window within your reach on a rainy day. The bus is ventilated so it doesn't get stuffy and you never sit on the inner seat so you're not the one getting soaked. Fuck you for that, but also, when you lept across the bus to steal the seat I was closer to and planning on taking, you said in the bitchiest voice I've heard since moving here, "ExCUSE me." Apparently, you had sat down so quickly the person who sat adjacent you didn't have time to move her umbrella (which she may as well have opened since she was getting soaked). I didn't hear her response after she moved the umbrella, but I and the rest of the bus heard you say cattily, "Did you not see your umbrella was poking me in the leg?" Dude, give her a minute to react to your rude bus-riding behavior. Also, I saw the umbrella before she moved it: it was barely grazing the top of your leg. Furthermore, there is a polite way to do that, and that way is, "I'm sorry, would you mind scooting that over a little bit?" Here's another example: "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice your disgusting pleather jacket. Not only is it an eyesore to anyone within a 50-foot radius, but it makes the most disturbing noises, sounds that are slightly less disturbing than your voice. Would you please burn that at your soonest convenience? Thanksomuch."
To the man in the kilt: Thanks for wearing the kilt. It was amusing, especially when it went flying this way and that as you ran the entire length of the bus to nab that seat from the old lady. Asshole.
I loathe the bus.
This morning I've managed to break my computer (not my fault), break a glass (my fault) and get several cuts and scrapes on my hands from that glass. Last night I found out that my dad has been in the hospital since Saturday with some sort of head trauma from a skiing accident. I was asked to fly to Colorado to drive him back to Redding, so now I'm on the verge of tears for feeling guilty about the fact that I can't. Also, I'm not talking to the one person who makes the work day go by ever-so-pleasantly, mostly because she queried, "I wonder if I could get you to stop talking to me if I sent you enough jpgs." Indeed, she could.