Absolutely nothing. Well, unless you examine closely my hour commute to college today (Yes, that's my finger in the frame. I could barely raise my right arm because some obnoxious Pitt student was breathing stale oxygen directly into my mouth):
I always avoid carping about public transportation, although, occasionally, one must vent about the frustrations of proper public etiquette, and the lack there of. If you have no other choice than to stand directly in front of me, at least face the front of the bus. She either enjoyed staring at the top of my head, or had a sucking-complete-stranger's-hot-air fetish.
Another trait these jaded, bus-riding veterans all share is the fuck it, how does my coat's zipper feel whipping across your face? syndrome. Seriously, button up your fucking outerwear. I don't need brush-burn and/or welts on the side of my face because you decided it "fashionable" to leave your dead animal/coat undone. The last thing I need on my way to class is a lashing in the face from your mothball flavored mink scarf.
One of the underrated perks of utilizing public transportation is having the opportunity to enjoy its quirky sense of humor. Actually, I lied. I almost vomited in my mouth a little from having no other choice than to stare at this poster for a half-hour:
Fuck them. Don't visit that website. It's a conspiracy designed by Wilford Brimley to get you to read about his Diabeetis testing supplies. I think.
On a more subtle side note; stop calling this fucking snowstorm "Snopocalypse" and "Snowmageddon." Visions of Y2K flash through my brain every time I hear this dribble. At least they're not demanding we stock up on gallons of water and cans of Franco-American ravioli.
One more thing on winterhellbabyslaughter 2010; sure, leaving the roads un-plowed was slightly asinine. Refusing to salt a major fucking road (S. Braddock Ave.) is absurd. I felt like I was in a Jack London novel while trudging my way through ice and snow/mud to the bus stop. It was literally up to my knees in mountainous terrain and all I could think was "Damn, I wish I had my snowshoes. Where the fuck is White-Fang?"
Pitt students and Diabeetis aside, I did happen to have a brief encounter with a pleasant CMU student who plopped down next to me somewhere in Squirrel Hill. Look! There she is on the right!
Hope she made it to class on time. I sure didn't:
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