Okay, I'm trapped on the freakin' little bus, not enough room on the seats, everyone's squished together, there's no overhead rack for our bags or coats so there's even less room, the damn Treee Lighting Ceremony is going on at Rockefellor Center so crazy tourists are swarming all over the place and the bus is dragging through traffic.
It's like, an hour-and-a-half ride from midtown to Oakland Gardens, Queens.
Do I HAVE to sit there on top of everything else and listen to your long, loud cell phone conversations? Two days in a row. Cell phones with ringers turned up, people yakking in three seats around me, no one gives a F*** how annoying and irritating that is when most of the bus is quiet (it's not so bad on a normal, regular in-city route where it's already noisy and people are coming and going).
The one day, I was sitting there ready to start screaming. I wanted to read my book. Yes, I had my i-Pod, and was ready to turn it on as a last resort, but to drown out these ignoramuses i would have had to turn it up very loud, it may have given me a headache and I wouldn't have been able to read.
I'm not a complete cell phone nazi. I don't care if you have to make a call on the bus, really. But speak softly, and don't go on and on and on for half an hour, 45 minutes gossipping and talking about sex. For god's sake don't start a sales pitch. I BEG YOU, don't start a sales pitch.
I wonder if I can start some kind of movement. Yes, I realize I'm coming across as Ms. Cranky tonight, but the commute is hellish enough without this. When I feel like I'm sharing the pain with my fellow commuters it's not so bad. When I want to get up and throttle them, it's not so nice.
I have spoken.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
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