Rant About the Bus...There is No Hiding What This is

So at 23, I probably should know how to drive. Whenever I tell people that I don't drive, they assume I just do not have a car... not the case. Some how I just managed to skip that crucial stepping stone for American teenagers at age 16.

I spent some of this past summer practicing my skillz, but I still am not legal behind a wheel, so I am stuck to my old ways. Now there are a few options for those of use who are vehicularly challenged, they include and are almost limited to:
1) Walking (which was wonderful in college, but it is as handy as a match under water in the 'burbs)
2) Public transit (This is me)
3) Beings that annoying person who always uses friends for rides (I try not to be this person, but sometimes still am. Sorry)
4) Biking.  (Nope. Never again. When I was about 14 I ended up doing a 40 mile ride for charity. I swore that day I would never again get on a bike and so far I have kept pretty good on my promise.)

Good old Bussy 

About 98% I ride the bus and the train without incident, but that leaves the two percent of the time where shit hits the fan. It's these moments that make me contemplate becoming an agoraphobic or, you know getting my license. Since high school I have been riding around the Minneapolis area. The following are a few of the many encounters that have happened to me in the last 4 years.

 I remember the first time I ever had an incident on the bus. I was 18, and waiting in the Midway Center in St. Paul trying to catch the 21 downtown to go to a Roller Derby match. It was January and cold enough that you didn't want to spit for fear it would freeze on your lips. When the 21 finally approached my stop, my friend and climbed on and took the first seats available.

Unfortunately, not everyone wanted to get out of the cold for a peaceful ride. Four teenagers ran to the back of bus and kicked the everliving shit out of some guy sitting there. At first I couldn't believe it was happening, but what was more shocking than the actual attack was the lack of empathy from the other riders and the driver. Most didn't bother to look up or when they did, they quickly went back to whatever they were doing. The driver didn't say anything until the guy was bleeding everywhere.

Finally, someone called the cops. The kids ran out of the back door of the bus, hopped in a car and quickly drove away. The rest of us had to get back out of the bus and wait for the cops to take our statements. This should have been my first clue that the bus was not for me...

Luckily it seemed like an isolated incident of violence. The only other physical fight I have witnessed on public transit, was years later on the light rail.It would have been scary, except it felt a little like a B movie copy of West Side Story.

I had just gotten off of work at the Mall of America and was taking the train home. I was running late and just managed to slide into the last car before it pulled out. It was a little like the fucking Twilight Zone.

Some how I had walked in to party in full swing. The people all knew each other and were drunk, even though they appeared to be about 13. I knew that this was not going to be fun. The asshole in front of me had his free flip phone from Verizon cranked up to full blast. Some sort of shity beat was being played, and it sounded as if he had recorded it by holding the phone near a boombox rather than actually put an mp3 or even a ringtone on there... Either way he played this same looping beat (though to be honest, it may have been more than one, but between the crackles it was hard to tell) the entire 45 minute train ride.

To add to the festivities there were $.99 bags of chips and Gatorade being passed around. The air was pungent with the scent of Hot Cheetos and Lay's BBQ chips. The kids yelled, swung from bars, and ate chips like there was no tomorrow. It was loud, but I tried to read my book and ignore it.  But then one of the guys must have dissed a girl.

Before I knew it, they were screaming and screeching, puffing up chests, and shoving each other. Then one of them, who I wall call Gorilla, whipped out a knife.

Gorilla: How are you going to say that bro?

Small Guy: What? You a bitch.

Girl One to Gorilla : Forget him!

Gorilla: Ho shut up!

From the best I could decipher, the small guy had insinuated that the girl was sleeping with everyone. This pissed off the giant gorilla looking guy, who whipped out a knife. The friends of each guy respectively lined up behind them and stood there jeering. No one got stabbed, but I did get to hear a lot of shit talking for the next ten minutes before they all got off. The entire time I sat there, I contemplated snapping my fingers, but it seemed like overkill.

Picture this will less choreography and more Hot Cheetos.

Beyond the scuffles, there have been a number of weirdos that I ran into on an almost daily basis. Here are a few of the most memorable.

If you look closely you will see that this fine gentleman of the Metrotransit, is cutting his fingernails. I snapped this picture on the Light Rail. He started with just his fingers. Clipping each one and tossing it on to the floor as if it were his own disgusting house, but then he moved on to his TOENAILS! Yep!! He popped up his mandles to clip of each toe nail after carefully inspecting it. The best part is that no one besides myself seem to think this was strange.

This fine drunk feller decided that he wanted to hit on every girl that was on the train. By the time he reached this batch, he has perfected his moves, well almost. His plan of attack was to yell at them, "If I can do ten pull ups and one back flip, you have to buy me a beer!". For a moment it seemed like he might make it, but alas the train turned and he landed flat on his face. No free beer for you tonight good sir.

This bro is wearing an equalizer shirt. You know, that shirt that you can buy at a mall kiosk for about $10 after you attempt to walk a way a few times to work the guy down form his initial price of  $50. Well in the picture it seems like he is talking on the phone, but it reality he is playing music near his shirt so that everyone else on the train can be jealous of his sweet new tee. Dream on loser.

Sadly the last patron of the bus I want to talk about, I do not have a photo of, but he was the most memorable. Last spring as I was heading home from work it had been a shit day, but my train ride went without incident. All I had to do was take a 7 minute ride on the 3 and I was home free. The bus was packed but I found a seat near the front. It was one of those seats that face the aisle rather than forward, this is key.

Just like these ones

I noticed that across from me there was a college kid like myself, and what appeared to be a sleeping hobo. Eventually  the hobo's head slipped down so that he was sleeping on the kid. The kid looked freaked out. He was trying to move the guy off of his shoulder, but to no avail. Eventually he took to shaking him. At this moment the guy woke up, jerked forward and threw up all over my legs. Yes I was covered in hobo vomit, and the worse part of it was the guy just wiped his mouth and then went right back to sleep. 

I hate the bus sometimes.

I Should Have My Shopping Privileges Revoked

Have you ever caught yourself buying something crazy?  You realize it is crazy, but you can't stop yourself... Well that happens to me.... All the fucking time.

Most of the time this sequence of events happens when I get nostalgic. This morning I was on campus just waiting for the bus, when all of the sudden a herd of students riding Razor scooters zoomed by me. They were going so fast! ... Well I mean they were moving slightly faster than the people meandering around them, and boy did they look cool. As I stood there like a loser waiting for my bus, I whipped out my phone and started to look for a pink one one Ebay.

Wouldn't I look awesome jetting around on this bad boy?

But then just as I was about to bid on one, I remembered that I had a Razor scooter circa 2002 when they were shit. Guess what? Razor's fucking blow. The wheels get stuck on every crack or tiny pebble, when you lift them they swing about and smack you in the ankle, and they don't go fast at all... in fact they may actually be more work than walking. 

Now I know all of these things, but because other people had one and I used to have one, there I was online about to make a bid of $26 to have my very own ankle breaker. Lucky for me the bus came at the moment so I got on and did not buy my pink scooter.

What is terrible is that a Razor scooter is not the weirdest thing I have tried to by online... food is. I have tried to buy in the last five years, 3D Doritos, Orbitz Soda, those tiny Mario Bros. cans of soda, Japanese Green Tea Kit Kats, bread in a can, unicorn meat, ect...

I do things like this all of the time. I have many things that I have bought because I thought it was humorous. Here is a few of the things I own that no person really needs.

Peter Pan on laserdisc

A medium sized Jesus piggy bank made of purple glitter

A wooden dildo shaped like a gnome

A LFO Doll

A ton of random costumes including but not limited to a full unicorn suit

And a $600 Sailor Moon costume.

Glow in the dark dinosaur toys

costumes for my dog

Like 8 Ikea Lack tables (They are just so cheap!)

Ect...

I also stock pile supplies for crafts I want to start (but never do). I have sheets to tie dye, thread to cross stitch naughty words onto throw pillows, glitter, puff paint, a Bedazzler, glass beads, feathers and glue, and about 8 million other little things.

Someone really should take away my access to the internet, thrift stores, and my bank account.

The Woes of Retail

I have worked in retail since I was 17 years old. About 90% of the time, I really like working retail, which is good because I am going to pay off my I'm-going-to-poor-forever-because-I-have-a-totally-useless-but-still-cost-forty-grand-English Lit degree (coming in May!) some how. But there is that ten precent of the time that I hate it so much I want to curb stomp the next motherfucker who so much as looks at me. Before I tell you about why I hate retail sometimes, maybe it is better to explain why I like it.

Check out this truly unattractive picture of me. Working at my first retail job circa 2008.

So why do I like retail? Who likes working crappy hours for little pay? Who likes being treated like crap by customers and superiors? Well apparently I do. I like meeting new people. I like small talk. I like doing something different every day. I also like excuses to buy cute dresses.

 I have had three retail jobs in my short work history. First I worked at a chain store that sells new and used clothing. I was there from age 16 to 20. It was pretty sweet. I got to pick the music, do almost anything I wanted, and I got first dibs on all of the funky clothes and used Halloween costumes. 

Not even sure what is going here, but I know it was taken at work.

Next was probably the worst job I have ever had. I worked in the retail section of a well known family wild life themed restaurant. I have very few fond memories of working here.

After about a year, I left for my current job. I love my job (most days). I do not have to fold shirts, and all I do is help people look like rockstars. 

So anyway, here are some of the days in retail that made me want to rip my face off. 

So my first year at what I am going to call "Re-Wear", I found out one of the worst things about selling used clothing. Sure gross things happened once in a while, like finding dirty panties in pants pockets, a musty shirt, or the occasional unidentifiable white stain.... But nothing quite like this. 

We had this regular customer. He was a weird looking guy, a little older than our normal mall tween demographic. He would come into the store about once a week. He would do the same thing every time. 

First came the super awkward small talk:

Creepy guy: Heeeeey ladies. 

Us: Hi.

CG: (super long awkward pause) fitting rooms open?

Us: Yup.

Then at this point he would proceed to take about 15 pairs of used jeans into fitting rooms (Note, at this time we only sold women's jeans) He would spend maybe half an hour in there, but then never buy anything.  This went on for months till one day he came out after "trying" on his jeans. He walked up the counter and asked if we sold tights. We showed him the packaged ones, to which he explained that he wanted used ones. 

We told him that we only sold new. At this point he asks my co-worked if she would sell him her personal used tights. Now things were getting a little what the fuck at this point... I mean who asks someone to buy their used tights?

Now here is where things take a turn for the worst. As he is inquiring about buying some tights, we notice that he has something balled up in his hand. He keeps bring the item up near his face and smelling it. It is a light pink fabric....

It dawns on us one by one that this man is standing here talking to us and smelling used women's underwear... Meaning that all of those times he had spent alone in our dressing rooms with used women's pants he was smelling them and doing god knows what....

With that we poilelty asked him to leave.... but before he is out the door he asks just one last time about buying her tights, this time offering to pay for the tights and then paying here to wear them... Who does that. It's one thing if you are into smelling undies, if that is what gets you going good on you. However you hit level creepy as fuck when you are asking 16 year old girls to buy their used tights.


 I mean this is not Japan, we do not have vending machines here for that kind of thing....

Yes this is a used panty machine. Thanks Land of the Rising Sun

So the incident that inspired me to write this post happened at my current job about a month ago. I was working alone as I often do. I should note that it is actually in the description of my job to be in fashion and sexy. So when I go to work, I always wear make up and flattering and perhaps short dresses. 

Okay so clearly this is not me at work, but it is an outfit that I wear to work

So there I am hanging out, selling some sunglasses, pretty much just minding my own business. I had a guy come in and I greeted him like normally. 

Guy: Are you bisexual?

Me: Excuse me?

Guy: Bisexual, like do you fuck chicks? You look bisexual

Okay, first of all.... WHAT THE FUCK. Is this supposed be pick up line? If so it is pretty much the worst one ever. Also how does one look bisexual? But I am at work so I attempt to be polite. 

Me: Is there anything I can help you find?

Guy: Shades.

Me: Well we have those.

Guy: I like your piercings. How many do you have?

Me: Thanks, maybe ten? I am not sure. So what kind of glasses are you thinking about?

Guy: I am going to get something pierced tomorrow.

Me: That's cool.

Guy: I am thinking about getting my dick done. What do you think?

Me: Uhhh?

Guy: You look like you'd have your nipples done. Can I see?

Seriously? What is going through someone's mind that they think this is an appropriate way to talk to anyone? Also what kind of girl would these lines work on???? Hint the answer is not me.

Guy: How many dudes have you fucked?

Me: *jaw dropped can't not form words*

Guy: I have to piss, I will be right back.

Yup. Working in retail rocks. I can not wait for some more awesome adventures.