Tales from the bus

This evening I took the 6:42 bus home from the Port Authority. I was in a pretty crappy mood by then because I left work unable to resolve something I had been trying to figure out for a couple of hours. It was a sour ending to a day that was not as productive as I needed it to be.

There are 49 seats on the bus, and 29 people got on, leaving 20 empty seats (no, I did not count. There is an electronic display operated by the driver). It just so happened that the last person to get on decided he wanted to sit next to me. I don't like sitting next to people, but whatever, all would have been fine if the moron didn't decide to crack open a beer and drink it from a paper bag.

This probably shouldn't have flustered, after all, it's not like I wanted that beer. I haven't had a drink in over 16 months, and I haven't been feeling like I am in any immediate danger. It did really bother me, though. The truth is I still feel very uncomfortable around alcohol. I don't want to be around people that are drinking, I don't want to smell it, and don't want to have to think about it.

I feel like I shouldn't have to deal with this crap on a commuter bus, where there are "no eating or drinking" signs plastered in plain view. After the day I had, I could have done without this idiot sitting next to me.