Generalizations about buses

Yes, it’s true!
The Generalization Chronicles makes another appearance tonight!

*****

They are long, hard, and solid.
They seat many people and are eco-friendly.
In Los Angeles, the only people riding them are the poor, the license-impaired, or the plain-out psychotic (me).
Can you imagine if they were the preferred mode of transportation in America?
If they maneuvered like they do in backwood rural areas where they pick schoolchildren up at their front doors? Sometime, beginning in old Fordian America, the personal automobile became a status indicator. I try to imagine growing up in the early 20th Century and witnessing the advent of the automobile. Such a new technology, so fascinating and its incremental advancement baffling to the mind and troubling to the wallet! Every year, a new model which relegated the previous models to social obscurity. The minute you drove that pile of bolts and and iron off the lot it lost as much worth as the innocent virgin you deflowered on her 16th birthday. Sucks.

Buses are communal. They are egalitarian.
Hence their failure in urban areas and other communities where the personal automobile signifies a superlative sense of achievement. And the archetypal layering of social class which is a must for the modern sophisticated animal.

Buses are dirty. The seats are covered in godawful multi-colored assemblages of gross one-size-fits-all palate vomit schemes that you can also find on the MTA (underground) Red Line. Yeah, the textile factory cranks that shit out cheaply, hence the utility and savings communities can enjoy by coating their unglamorous seats with that shit.

The seats hide boogers. That’s important on buses because I once saw a man pick a booger, study it, and rub it back on a bus seat which a commuter would most likely plant his fat ass on later in the ride. Yech.
The rear of buses are hot and fumy and during the summer, almost unbearable. In the winter, they are fumy but wonderfully comforting.

Did I say buses are long and hard?

Buses come in many shapes and forms.
Buses hold rock bands.
They hold frizzy-haired gray old Asians on their way to Las Vegas.
They hold large groups of unruly and vomiting schoolchildren.
In L.A., they cut the top off in order to make a convertible bus and cart tourists around town where they can view, unfiltered, the carnival atmosphere of this stuffy company town behind the camera lens.

Buses hold prisoners, or those on their way…
Buses, in black and white, with bars on the windows, shuttle groups of down-and-out chumps serving time at L.A. County’s finest institutions.

In fact, in 1993 one of them carried me to jail when I served time for my first DUI. I turned myself in at the Alhambra courthouse. I sat in a courtroom’s backroom with a bunch of other scumbags while we ate free apples. Finally, we were called and we filed into the black and white bus. A bunch of ragtags ready to do their designated time in Los Angeles’ incarceration hell. In the front, behind impenetrable barriers, sat a couple of armed Sheriffs. All I remember during that sordid ride to County jail was the fact they were playing goddamned “I’m Not In Love” by 10cc, some lame-ass 70s syrup. Most likely intentional because it had a dampening effect on our vicious prisoner persona. We just wanted to get checked in and out.

Buses do this.

Buses are where women sit with other women for safety, or in the front, near the driver, who represents sane authority, because the back of the bus is the anti-authority zone and only the hardest women with balls of steel dare to sit. And many do. When a hot chick (preferable 16-17) sits in the back, you can sense a mass chorus of erections springing to action simultaneously, including my own.

And of course, the back of the bus is where people were involuntarily forced to sit in eras past.
Funny how now some people (like me) choose to sit in the back because we hate the orderly repressed civilization of the front.

A bus is like civilization.
The front houses the responsible, the uptight and the tidy.
The back is everyone else, and the degree of antithesis to the front ideal correlates to the depth of the seating placement.