[Standing on the corner, waiting for a bus]

I have had a ridiculously busy August. I had dear friends visit, I went to Canada, I knitted a LOT (Ravelympics! Go Team Junkie!) & I worked even more (hello, beginning of event season). I only went to one movie. Please contain your shock. I also only went to one concert, but I’m sneaking in a second on Sunday (the Satellite Riders, an Old 97s ‘cover band’. You’d swear you’re watching the real thing, or so I hear. *cough*)

I do have a whole whack of pictures to edit and upload and spam you with. Next week, maybe. Until then, allow me to vent about a fellow bus patron on Friday night:

Things this woman on the bus bitched about to her daughter, from Northgate to at least the U District (I got off there to buy yarn. I have no reason to believe she stopped complaining):

1) That the driver gave her a transfer good for two and a half hours, when she *asked* for a round trip. (Seattle buses give transfers, not returns. The closest thing to an exception is if you buy a day pass on a weekend or holiday.)

2) That the fare was $1.75, and if they took more than two and a half hours doing whatever they would have to *gasp* pay again to come home. $1.50 at that point, by the way, because it’d be after peak hours. She then gave a withering look all around the bus, sighed, and said it would be cheaper to drive. If she can demonstrate to me how I can a) buy a car b) insure it c) park it d) fill it with enough gas for a 20 mile round trip commute plus, you know, life, all on less than $63 a month, I would LOVE to know about it. Seriously. Bring it on.

3) That the bus wasn’t on the freeway, even though it said “express”. Here’s a hint. You do not actually want to be on I-5 after 5pm. There’s a reason why I commute home through the U District most of the time. In this case, Roosevelt to Eastlake has lights and occasional stops, but you also make visible progress.

4) That they were on the 66 in the first place. *She* wanted to go to the waterfront. She was *positive* they had always taken the 41. (This is the thing she went on longest about. Occasionally she would pause to squeeze her plastic water bottle, making it snap. She’s lucky my nerves didn’t snap, or I might have beaten her to death with it.) ANYWAY. She’s wrong. The 41 is a tunnel bus, and goes down 3rd. That is something like five blocks from the waterfront, including potential for some fairly steep hill action, depending where you get off. The 66 goes to the *ferry terminal*. That *is* the waterfront.

I did not kill her. I got off the bus, I bought yarn (baby shower knitting!), I walked down to Campus Parkway (past an apartment building with a paint job that gives Vertigo Condos a run for their money), I caught my usual bus back to Capitol Hill (and while waiting for that, heard an elderly fellow tell the same bad line about McCain three times.)

I will end with a dialogue between two of the dudes behind me on the 49:

Dude one: If you wear nylon shorts, your boner pokes out.
Dude two, in total earnest: I *know*. That’s why I’m wearing jeans.

I did not turn around. This was either due to great willpower or a well developed sense of self-preservation.

Ah, Seattle.