So for the first time this year, I am taking the bus to the Eastside. I’m actually blogging on the 520 bridge, which is good because I’m discovering a new way to make The World’s Longest Bus Ride less boring and more productive. So of course I decided to take the bus last minute, and of course instead of selecting the route time that would have given me more time at home before leaving for the stop I opted for the route time that was cutting it juuuust a little close but would be totally worth it if I could make it.
And that’s where my perfect sunny Seattle afternoon began to go downhill. Adventure in Urban Living #452 follows…
So, I rush out the door, hauling my overnight bag and the dog and begin to hightail it to the stop. As the stop is only 10 blocks away, this should be an easy trip. However, I immediately get stuck behind a trio of “girls” sauntering along the sidewalk, the kind of anti-society adolescents covered in men’s wear and worn jeans with markered Converse tennis shoes who band together and tell each other they don’t care what boys or those preppy cheerleaders think about their weight over Hostess Cupcakes and Cokes every afternoon and whose bitterness leaves them unaware or uncaring that I am in an obvious hurry and trying to pass them on the sidewalk. Also, the reason I’m unable to pass has to do with the fact that Baylor is straining toward the planter boxes with every step, which I ignore as he’s already gone twice today and anyway we don’t have time to stop.
Finally, at a widening of the sidewalk I am able to pass and have just gained enough ground to where I think we might actually make it when Baylor stops dead in the middle of the street, hunches over and begins to go #2…right in front of a popular fine dining restaurant AND right across the street from my luxury hotel. I practically choke the dog in my frantic efforts to drag him to the planter box, but by the time he gets there he is already done. I turn around to clean the mess and am wickedly delighted as I see that one of the same frustratingly oblivious girls I had tried to pass has just stepped in the poo. Reveling in my urban retribution, I finish cleaning up and race off again, just 2 blocks short of my goal.
However, my sidewalk victory is short-lived as I arrive at the stop and realize that karma has bitch-slapped me once again, as I have missed my bus.
So, I am forced to stand at Westlake for another 30 minutes waiting for the next one, amongst exactly the kind of degenerates and unsavory urban individuals I tried so hard and unsuccessfully to avoid by rushing in the first place. I’m not being cruel – it’s a major freakshow down there. Case in point: while I am waiting I am talked at by a crazy man who is muttering unintelligable profanities, the dog is rushed by 3 overeager teens who frighten him so that he snaps (which I praise quietly) and one seemingly normal-looking gentleman walks toward us as if to say hello…and thens stomps and claps in my face as he walks by (it’s worthwhile to note that it wasn’t just me he did this to). And this wasn’t even the busiest of days at the stop.
At the end of the day, it could have been worse. I’m on the bus now, warm, and am being transported to my destination for a mere $1.75. And really, what do I expect? This is pretty much how it always goes – just another PA (personal adventure). But perhaps next time, we’ll cab it to the bus – just to be safe.