leaner
the 14 summit (my bus to work) is crowded in the morning. it starts off on cap hill with gay/hipster office kids and winds down the hill toward downtown where it makes a left on 3rd ave. office kids get off, crazy gets on. usually. sometimes crazy starts the ride up on the hill, like on thursday.
seats are two-by-two and choosing the right seat partner can make your ride to work either quite pleasant or quite awful. i usually choose a thin someone who has their nose buried in a book, because i’m a thin someone whose nose is soon to be buried in a book. on thursday, i choose what i thought was a wise seat-mate but he was socially freakish and couldn’t figure out how to share. and by that i mean he was well over my side of the dividing line.
i’m not thick of butt, but i was hanging off into the aisle because of him. becoming furious, i started leaning on him. not enough to hurt, just enough to make him feel incredibly uncomfortable and maybe a little violated, which is how i was feeling. the discomfort showed on his face and when he couldn’t take it, he’d yank his elbow away from me in disgust. i’d settle down with the new yorker. a minute later he’d cross the line and i’d start up the lean again. this repeated until he got off the bus.
it felt kind of mean and aggressive (and not surprisingly it reminded me of being in the back seat of the car with my brother on a trip back from queens visiting my grandparents) when i did it, but it also felt so fucking good to feel like i was teaching him a lesson.
i think something here (work, home, something) is making me incredibly direct. and maybe a little mean.
and i promise that all my posts won’t be about the bus.