Cleaning up the bus

I love the Atomic City Transit! I ride the bus every day to and from work, and I love it for a lot of reasons: A) it's free, B) there's a stop three doors down from my house, and C) that bus goes directly to the middle school without having to transfer. Oh, and D) it's free. That's worth mentioning again.

The one sucky part is that since it goes right to the middle school, via the high school, it's basically like riding the school bus. I mean, there are plenty of adults, but the loudest and most obnoxious bulk of riders is comprised of middle and high school students.

And the adults all sit quietly reading their papers or listening to music, while the students try to outdo each other in how liberally they can sprinkle their conversations with the F-word, or one-up each other in conversational raunchiness.

And it gets old.

Yesterday on the way home, I came up with a plan for what I would do next time it got out of control. Which would be soon. Kevin gave me his old iPod, and I happen to know all the words to the Wicked soundtrack. I also rather enjoy belting along with those Broadway divas, despite my lack of vocal ability.

So the scenario would go like this: After apologizing in advance to any other adults riding the bus, I'd sit in the back with the teenagers. I'd sing my heart out along with a couple songs-- it wouldn't take more than two, I'm sure-- and then I'd get a tap on my shoulder. Or someone would yell something. Either way, someone would communicate the "stop singing" memo.

I'd innocently say, "Did you not like my singing? Was that not something you wanted to hear when you got on the bus this morning?" Then I'd get out my angry eyes. "Maybe that's something you should think about before you start sharing your raunchy, inappropriate conversations with the whole bus! Maybe that's not what we wanted to hear on the bus this morning."

That was my plan as I went out to the bus stop. I even sang a little on my way out there-- to warm up, you know.

Here's how it really went:

The bus was a little emptier than usual. The conversations were quiet and nice-- well below their usual roar. It definitely wasn't loud enough to require singing.

So I just read my book instead.

But about halfway up the hill, I got an earful of [a vulgar, detailed explanation of something I won't write here].

Out came the angry eyes. (They're not that angry-- more like grumpy eyes.)

"Do you realize there are other people on this bus?" I paused for dramatic effect.

Deer-in-the-headlight stares.

I waved my bookmark at them. "Yeah, keep that in mind." I went back to my book.

After a few surprised seconds, the conversation continued-- on a new topic. Occasionally the dialogue was laced with "Oh my gosh," or "freaking." It was awesome.

I'll save my singing for another day.