In the Bus Bag
Writing My Wrongs: Life, Death, and Redemption in an American Prison, by Shaka Senghor
Tag Archives: Glossary
The latest installment of Grist’s dating column, “Treeshagger” (I know, I know) is all about how to find your soul mate (or at least someone you wouldn’t mind sharing a coffee or two with) on public transportation.
No matter how many “met on the bus” stories I hear, I never get tired of the topic. And this particular column happened to include the best transit hookup story I’ve ever heard. Peep it:
Did you hear about Patrick Moberg, that dude who found the girl of his dreams on the New York subway? Like a twee Wes Anderson …
I recently chatted (via e-mail) with Nicole McGuire, the woman who made this amazing cake.
Here’s what she had to say about her kid’s bus obsession–and her work of genius:
Max’s love of buses began when he was about a year old with Joe taking him on trips when I was pregnant with our second child and too tired to go out and do anything. For some reason, Max just loved the bus from the start. …
The bus driver is talking relationships with the BDP (apparently, a regular passenger) in the seat nearest to him.
Driver: “You know what they say: If you can’t be with the one you love…”
BDP: “Love the one you’re with.”
Driver: “Yeah. Don’t tell her that, though. She’s the type that will kill the messenger.”
She calls it (what else?) her “Orca card.” And yes, she pretends to swipe it.
Earlier in the week, Bus Nerd hipped me to this Slate piece about subway psychology. It didn’t turn out to be as interesting as it sounds, but it did contain one useful (and fascinating) tidbit: Apparently, parking yourself in the seat closest to the door* “offer[s] the best opportunities for falling in love with the proper stranger.”
Talk about a revelation! If only I’d known this back when Nerd was a “proper stranger,” it might not have taken us so long to meet.
Unfortunately, the article does not propose any theories about what seat choice has to …
There’s nothing like a day at the beach to bring out some good, old-fashioned summer bus luh.
I swear to Busfather this actually happened.
Bus Family home, 7 PM:
Nerd enters the room where Chicklet and I are playing, leans over, and gives me a kiss.
Chicklet: “Daddy’s kissing Mommy … lentement!”
At this rate, she’ll be issuing tickets for bus fouls by the time she’s two.
Southbound 48, 2 PM: The man behind the wheel turned out to be the same man a longtime family friend brought to my nuptials, lo, those many (oh, was it only two?) years ago. I don’t actually know him, and until that ride, I had no idea he was a bus driver.
Tandy, props for your good taste in dates. How often does a bus chick get the chance to say to a driver, “Hey, I think you were a guest at my wedding!”
Eastbound 4, 8:30 PM: I rode with Smooth Jazz for the first time in …