Today I rode the route 15 East bus to class, so I was late. I actually enjoy riding the bus and other forms of public transit. It’s fun to watch and listen to all the interesting characters who end up on the bus with you. Tonight there was a a kind of homeboy-looking guy who was chatting up the bus driver. They gave each other a serious fist-bump handshake when he exited the bus. I was curious how they knew each other; all sorts of possibilities really. Maybe the the bus driver is an old family friend? Maybe they were incarcerated together? Maybe he just rides route 15 East frequently, thus he’s become friendly with the bus driver. One never knows but it’s fun to make up life stories for the people who you ride alongside.
The saddest person I’ve ever met, or rather chatted with, was while riding the lightrail last summer. I had ridden downtown to meet a friend of mine for drinks at the infamous Front Porch because it was “Amanda” night. This means she drank for free all night, and I drank under the guise that I was a paying customer when, in actuality, I simply bought one greyhound at the start of the night and she’d refill me with free drinks.
Anyhow, on the ride back home, I talked to a young man who happened to be riding the train with his family. This took place the Friday after the DNC, and I believe there was some other festival taking place downtown at that time as well. This young man was quite a character – very chatty. He began to ask me questions and at first I was a bit wary, although it became obvious after we talked that he was harmless. He seemed wistful for something more in his life despite his happy-go-lucky attitude and his young age. I think he was missing some teeth, but mostly he seemed to be missing something in his life, or rather it seemed that he felt he was missing something in his life. I can’t really put my finger on it, but sometimes when you meet certain people you can just instantly feel a sadness that comes with them. As if it follows them around day-to-day.