The buses were late and there weren't that many. I'm trying to get home and I end up waiting 40 minutes for a ride.
Maybe this is why...there were something like 3 different accidents with rumored lane closures on the freeway. So I'm standing for over an hour because there aren't any seats left, add more time for the standing at the bus stop. I was standing for well over two hours. This is nobody's fault I realize. I stand quietly and politely respond to a blonde lady's chitchat; she's a nice lady anyway and we've spoken in the past.
I try not to focus on the fact that it is hot, smelly, and that my lower back kills. I space out--very zen-like. When I snap out of it, I look out the window and do not recognize anything. Where am I? Where are we?! Why aren't we stuck in traffic on the freeway? Why are we stuck in traffic in an unrecognizable city? I want to kick everyone around me, but I don't. I want to yell at the driver from the back of the bus, but I don't--he was nice to me earlier and there's only so much he can do in times like this.
Getting back to the Empire took close to three hours. Fabulous. And, I have to go back out into the world tomorrow and use the bus again! Yay!
Nothing kills your spirit faster than trying to use public transportation in L.A. County. I've been doing this way too long.
Since 2006
2 comments:
For some reason thinking about public transport in LA always makes me think of Speed.
Whatever happened to Sandra Bullock, anyway?
I still make vague references to that movie that no one catches these days.
A bus that cannot go under 50 mph would be a dream come true. I guess it's really the traffic that's killing my soul.
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