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Commuting Suicide: Volume XVII

Posted by aquaman on August 06, 2006.


Friday morning I missed my alarm and caught a later bus. With the rush hour(s) behind us, I didn't recognize my fellow passengers. Gone were the subdued commuters, scowling-and-bearing-it, worn down by life. In their stead were a bunch of scabs who marveled at the excitement of bus travel. And these day-trippers marveled out loud.

The competing wailing babies added a nice touch. As did the chatty elderly couple I was ready to fit for hearing aids. But the boisterous stars of Friday's performance were two college girls. They stole the show.

Girl One [The one who had me praying for deafness]: "Everyone always says someone should write a book about our lives. The next Sex and the City!"

Girl Two [The one who had me praying for a fiery Turnpike crash]: "Obvi! Obvi!"

By "Obvi," I assume Girl Two was saving her breath by shortening "obviously," suggesting a certain respect for an economy of language. It was a shallow gesture. Like ordering a Diet Coke at the Pizza Hut Lunch Buffet, then finding room for the cherry pie dessert pizza. And with "Everyone always says someone should write a book about our lives," Girl One set back my Respect For Jersey movement ten years.

These girls are truly worthy of my ridicule and your disdain, and I'm compelled to convince you. But mocking their voices and vernacular won't make my case. So I'm cleaning up three snippets. No "like," no "beotch," no "snakes on a plane." By the third quote, you'll come to the same conclusion I did: no amount of extra sleep merits this level of suffering.

Girl Two: My dad owns stocks, and when he retires, I'm going to be a millionaire. Like, tens of millions. Or maybe it's bonds. That makes sense, right? He'll buy you a condo if you ask.

Girl One: Sarah said we should do lunch. I told her to stop begging to be my friend. Then I saw she has Chad in her Top 8 [MySpace friend ranking]. She'll regret that this semester. I'll see to that.

Girl Two: Help me pick a ringtone.

That third quote doesn't sound so bad. And it didn't require any cleaning up. But I can assure you, it kicked off the most excruciating ten minutes in commuting history.

I wish I had a better ending. Something sensible, like bus-driver intervention. Or something wonderful, like projectile vomiting from the still-bawling baby. Nope. Nobody got involved. And so the virus continues to spread, infecting restaurants and waiting rooms and lines for cabs.

No one should write a book about them. And I'm pretty sure I just proved they're not even worthy of a scarcely read web column.

If you enjoyed this story, read more like it in our Commuting Suicide section.

Reader Comments

Why's the ten millionaire taking the bus?

Posted by Jellio.

She didn't pretend to one-day inherit those tens of millions by hiring fancy car services.

Posted by aquaman.

I bet you took out a few dozen "likes". And "obvi" makes my head hurt. It's bad enough when every sentence began with "obviously" (or basically or actually).

Posted by Miss Cellania.