The StarShuttle is the only bus I ride, and, as far as I am concerned, the only bus worth riding. It is the cute little StarTran bus numbered 55 that runs down to 11th street, then through the Haymarket (although I have only seen 2 people get off or on there in 3 years), then around the other side of the capital before stopping nicely in front of the City Union. The Star Shuttle route is short (24 minutes), convenient, and uncomplicated, and I enjoy it very much.
But then other people get on.
There are two distinct groups of people who ride the StarShuttle: students trying to get their shit together (people like me) and adults who never got their shit together (people who like to talk to me). There are some exceptions of course; every so often I see a businessman or woman riding back to their office on a particularly wet day, and of course I don’t mean to insult the disabled to use the bus as their primary mode of transportation. I actually don’t really want to insult anybody.
So why, StarShuttle people, do you make it so hard?
The cast of characters I see regularly aboard the StarShuttle are as follows:
Pink Lipstick Lady: A woman who looks like a cross between muppets Janice and Miss Piggy in both appearance and makeup. She seems nice enough and never bothers anyone, but her lipstick is such a fluorescent pink I cannot help but stare at her until she exits at the library.
Blind Guy with Denim Backpack: This guy kicks ass. I don’t even mind when he accidentally bumps me with his cane. I see him at Russ’s market all the time buying beer, and then he walks home by himself. LIKE A BOSS. I just wanted to give him a shout out here. Blind Guy with Denim Backpack, you are one cool dude.
These two guys I once saw get in a fight over a can of JOOSE at 2 o’clock in the afternoon: The man with the can (clearly the victor) was jumping on and off the bus trying to hide from another man who was JOOSE-less. The JOOSE-less man was doing a lot of yelling and chasing, but the bus driver was more concerned that these gentlemen were going to make him late for the next stop rather than they were running around with an open container on a moving bus. Frankly all us passengers were too.But I see the two boys together all the time now. They get a long swell as long as JOOSE isn’t involved.
The obligatory near-South-living, stocking cap wearing, Vice magazine reading English/Poly-Sci double major.
A group of Asians who eat more bread from the Mexican market than I’ve ever seen in my life.
A man who claims everyone smells like cornbread (and you can’t think this is a racist stereotype IF IT IS TRUE.)
Phil Willet: one of the ad professors. He is in the habit of telling you everything you do isn’t good enough, and I am sure that is not limited to advertising. I swear if he tells me my choice of seat on the bus is “sub par” or “un-original” I will sic Blind Guy with Denim Backpack on him.
Daryl– a man who has a slight case of down syndrome and works at davinci’s overnight. I met him while working at the mall. He is a fun person to talk to and he loves to give hugs, which I accept, even though he has sores all over his hands.
Afternoon Juggalos: Unfortunately, the time has passed for me to ask this brand of bus rider if they believe in “miracles”, which is probably for the best because if I got too close I am afraid I would get lost in their pant legs and hoodies and freedom of expression. Regardless, they exist in strong numbers on the StarShuttle, particularly between the hours of 3 and 4 pm.
I think that will be all the stereotypes I will use and assumptions I will make about strangers for today. I guess the point of this is to indulge my morning routine into a breakdown of the people I stare at uncomfortably inbetween checking the tweets.