L.A. bus riding
It is 5 p.m. and time to begin the journey home. I am standing at the bus stop, sizing up the people waiting with me and trying to surreptitiously stretch my muscles. There are two teenage girls busy texting each other and giggling while they wait. A big guy I’ve named Guido in my head due to his thick black pompadoured hair and impressive stomach girth. Then there’s Edna. A regular here with her silvered hair, tennis shoes, and aluminum walker.
Edna catches my eye. We are both long time veterans of this bus stop. She gives me a subtle nod and a lift of an eyebrow. It’s a moments thought to return the nod and shift my stance. The alliance is made just as the bus, over crowded as always, pulls up.
The door opens and in a lightening fast move belying her years, Edna swings her walker and sends the girls I-phones flying down the sidewalk with them chasing after. At the same time, I hit Guido with a side kick to the solar plexus, followed up by a leg sweep that puts him flat on his back. Edna and I rush the bus door and just manage to get on before the driver slams it shut saying “No more room!” and pulls away from the curb. Edna and I share another glance and a nod. Then move deeper into the bus looking for a decent hand hold or seat.
Today, we were victorious together. Tomorrow might see us team up again or assessing the odds a little differently, face off against one another as adversaries. We both know how the game is played. It’s nothing personal. It’s just another day on the bus in L.A.
Edna catches my eye. We are both long time veterans of this bus stop. She gives me a subtle nod and a lift of an eyebrow. It’s a moments thought to return the nod and shift my stance. The alliance is made just as the bus, over crowded as always, pulls up.
The door opens and in a lightening fast move belying her years, Edna swings her walker and sends the girls I-phones flying down the sidewalk with them chasing after. At the same time, I hit Guido with a side kick to the solar plexus, followed up by a leg sweep that puts him flat on his back. Edna and I rush the bus door and just manage to get on before the driver slams it shut saying “No more room!” and pulls away from the curb. Edna and I share another glance and a nod. Then move deeper into the bus looking for a decent hand hold or seat.
Today, we were victorious together. Tomorrow might see us team up again or assessing the odds a little differently, face off against one another as adversaries. We both know how the game is played. It’s nothing personal. It’s just another day on the bus in L.A.