Adventures of Public Transportation

In my almost one year of living in Portland, I have learned a great many things. One of these lessons has been learning to deal with/enjoy the crazies on public transportation. With Portland being the 5th best city for public transportation in the States, I have come to rely on it as my means of getting around. That, and I don't own a car yet. Each trip on the MAX or bus adds a little more excitement into my life. I think excitement is what you call it... I try to look on the bright side of things, since there isn't much of a way around it at the moment. From screaming children to the clinically insane, these are some of my favorite adventures while riding mass transit.

Ever since cell phones became smaller than a purse and no longer needed to plug into a car in order to run, people have been surgically attached at the hand to their phones. Not that I am necessarily much different, but I can leave it in another room for at least a few hours before suffering nausea, shakiness, sweating, and other withdrawal symptoms. But, there is one huge difference that separates me from the addicts. I don't talk on the phone while riding public transportation. I refuse to. It is too loud for me to hear what is being said, the other person can't hear me, and I would rather not have an entire bus of strangers listening to a conversation about what my cat threw up the other night.

Most people who ride on public transportation seem to believe that they are surrounded by some invisible, soundproof bubble. There are topics that have come up during other peoples' phone conversations that have been laughable to cringe-worthy. I have heard multiple breakups, how a person should tell another that they are being evicted from their house for blowing all the rent on drugs, and who gave what disease to who. And then there are those people that choose to believe that what they have to say is crucially important to everyone in the vicinity that they must talk so loudly that everyone on the bus can hear the topic at hand. I'm not sure, but I think they must be hoping that someone will stand up and shout, "Amen!" or something like that as they preach on the phone. It might make things more interesting. But, for now, I just have to laugh to myself as someone shouts about a hooker giving them The Clap.

Along the same lines as people talking too loud on their phones, I also get a kick out of the crazies that just yell at everyone in general. Just the other morning I was riding into downtown when a man got on the MAX, and as we started rolling again, he started pacing and shouting at everyone on board. In these cases, it isn't always the best idea to laugh because you never know quite how unstable they really are. This man starts off by yelling, "All of you from California, listen up. We don't give a fuck about Arnold Schwarzenegger!" This comment was then followed up with, "The Blazers suck! Packers are the best fucking team in the world!" Not only did I find this hilarious because it was 6:30AM and the rest of the MAX had been completely silent before hand, but the Blazers and Packers don't even play the same sport. His final outburst was telling us to go to school and actually learn something about the world. I decided that I must be attending the wrong school since they don't seem to teach me any of this crucial knowledge. Perhaps I should transfer to the School of Under the Bridge. I hear they have a fantastic program for a major in drug sales and prostitution.

I do stand by this last story as being one of my favorite trips on the MAX. After signing papers for my new apartment, the roommate and I were headed back into downtown. A man stumbles on board and the places his hand on my shoulder. Since it is possible to lose your balance when the train starts moving, I don't think much of it. That was until he sat down and his hand lingered on my shoulder for another handful of seconds. At this point I just stared at my roommate and tried to shrug away from his hand. Eventually he moved it, but he just kept staring at us. After a couple minutes, the man turns to another man and starts asking questions about us. We had been eating a snack at the time, and the man asked the guy what it was we were eating. The normal guy who was dragged into this just kind of shrugs and tells the man to just ask us. He replies, "I can't do that. Women don't know how to read." We started laughing, but he really was convinced that we couldn't read, or talk coherently, or even think for that matter." We should be kept in the kitchen for that matter. After all, all I am really good for is making a sandwich. A damned good one at that.

No matter what my journey on mass transit is like, it will always give me great stories. That is, if I don't go deaf from phone calls, mute from a crazy cutting out my tongue for laughing, or dumb from just being a woman. Just remember, if you keep it up, I will gladly throw your phone out the door at the next stop. Really.