Bus Stop

On my short trip back to work from therapy on the light rail train, I was awakened from my daydream (read: Words With Friends move) to a one-sided obscenity-laced phone conversation.  The “tsks” and curses were broken up by the speaker reprimanding the train conductor for going too slow, not speeding up when the speaker thought she should, and potentially causing her to miss her bus.  I was already composing my 140-character tweet summary of her train tirade when she walked towards me.  I glanced at her and saw a mildly dirty polyester uniform, possibly cafeteria issued.  She approached the train door doing the dance of impatience and as the train slowed to a stop, she repeatedly pressed the automatic door opener in an effort to make it do the impossible – open faster.  She was still on the phone and as the door finally opened, she took off running for the bus stop.  The NET was just pulling away and she didn’t stop running, so I assumed that wasn’t the bus she needed.  I thought her reaction on the train was somewhat extreme until I remembered hearing that some buses only leave the area once a day.  If she missed her bus, it may very well have caused her a lot of stress and inconvenience.  While she was running, I saw that her legs were bowed inward.  I had long since stopped formulating my tweet.  My problems are nothing compared to the ones I imagine she has or has had.  I’m thankful for her reminder and I hope she catches her bus. 

Hypocrisy, Thy Name is Paul Ryan

"When I was waiting tables, washing dishes, or mowing lawns for money, I never thought of myself as stuck in some station in life. I was on my own path, my own journey, an American journey where I could think for myself, decide for myself, define happiness for myself. That's what we do in this country. That's the American Dream. That's freedom, and I'll take it any day over the supervision and sanctimony of the central planners."

So sayeth the misogynist with this record:

How Would a Vice President Paul Ryan Affect Women?