Dear Cat Lady,

It's Friday! It's the last day of the school/work week (for most people) and it is definitely a reason to celebrate. But imagine to my surprise when I woke up as the bus was pulling into a stop to pick up people and you walked on. You seemed to be struggling with a large cardboard box, so a man helped you carry it onto the bus. You had a ragged looking grey sweater that had a lot of holes in them and a large bag that jingled because you had a bell on the strap.

And then the meowing started.

You sat down and opened up your box and I peered over, only because I was curious. I was more than a little shocked to see maybe a dozen or more kittens in your box. You turned to the person who was sitting next to you and went "Say, would you like a kitty? Only thirty dollars each!"

I was more than a little disgusted that you were carting around a box that was over-crowded with kittens and they didn't seem to have a food dish or a water dish. You pulled out one with grey and white stripes and held the kitten out to the person on your other side and went "Look how adorable it is! Only thirty dollars!"

Eventually, you realized that there were no takers on the bus for random kittens and then you got off at another stop, dragging the box along with you and then, as the bus was about to pull away, you were sitting there at the stop. On top of the box. You were sitting on top of the cardboard box. That got rained on a little. You were sitting on top of a damp cardboard box that was holding at least a dozen kittens.

Stupidity is your strong suit.

Please don't ever have kittens in your possession again.

Sincerely,
Amateur animal activist

Dear The Navigational Challenged,

I spent my morning standing on the train today, it was good fun, until it reached the station where I get off. I wasn't impressed with the transit system today and I anticipated the train being overly crowded (I wasn't disappointed by that, at least) but then I was subjected to listening to you talk on the train, which was just not pleasant at all.

You were on your cell phone, talking to someone about how you were just 15 minutes away from the station where you needed to get off. Which is funny, because you were a) going in the opposite direction and b) you were approximately 40 minutes (and counting) away from the station.

Then as the trained slowed to a stop, it announced which station it was at and you were telling your friend that it was incorrect (I guess they heard it) and you knew exactly where you were going. Then you said that you had to go and looked up and around and then frowned and then leaned yourself over to the girl next to you (am I thankful I didn't snag that seat? A little, yes.) and asked her if this train took you to the station you wanted. Luckily she had a bit more skill with reading a simple map and informed you that you were going in the wrong direction.

You just shrugged and called your friend back, telling her or him that you'll be maybe 20 minutes instead. -buzzer sound- WRONG! Even if you transferred train lines, it'd still take you 40+ minutes to get there.

Perhaps next time, you really ought to just look up and check out the map?

Sincerely,
Girl who knows where she's going

Dear Silent Boy,

It was a very long day today. Actually, scratch that: it's still a very long day. The last thing that I wanted on my last bus home was being stuck next to someone who was talking my ear off because they needed someone to listen or someone to tell them that they're right or someone to just agree with them on whatever the hell they were going on about. I've heard more than I've ever needed to hear while waiting for a bus or train or while on a bus or a train.

So I sat down on the bus, bag at my feet and my cell phone in my hands as I debated texting someone to lament about my day. I didn't, but it didn't mean that I wanted to hear about someone else's day.

But luckily, so very luckily for me, you came onto the bus. You looked a bit shy, you mumbled to the bus driver before dropping a handful of coins into the machine to get your fare. You took the ticket and then shuffled along until the first available seat. The one next to me.

I was fiddling with my mp3 player to change the song (and increase the volume) when you sat down. You put your bag neatly in front of you and folded your hands and stared straight ahead.

I must confess I'm not used to this type of behavior. Certainly not by someone who's around 14 or 15 (and before anyone calls on me for judging based on looks, he was carrying a Math 10 textbook). But you were perfectly silent, just staring straight ahead and the only words you spoke to me were "Pardon me" when you reached over my head to pull to alert the driver that you wanted to get off at the next stop.

So I'm just writing this to let you know that I greatly appreciated not having my ear talked off on such a very long day.

Sincerely,
Tired Girl

Dear Mistaken,

I sat down on the bus first and you sat down right next to me. I had my headphones on and was listening to some pretty decent music. I kept to myself, reading my copy of the paper and having my bag at my feet. You sat down next to me and you had a copy of the same paper and then you turned and looked at me.

Man: Excuse me?
Me: *ignores*
Man: Excuse me? (a little louder this time)
Me: *sighing, a little annoyed, takes off headphones* Yes?
Man: I'm sorry to bother you but...
Me: Then don't.
Man: But you look just like my exgirlfriend.

Now I could have taken this in so many ways. You looked to be probably in your early to mid thirties. So I had to bite my tongue from going "So you were dating someone who wasn't even the legal drinking age yet?" - but I thought that would be mean.

Me: ...
Man: It's sounds crazy, I know. But you look just like her.
Me: That's nice...
Man: Women, my God, they're all insane though.
Me: ... Really... *wishing to go back in time and sit down next to that little old lady across the aisle with the knitting instead*
Man: You know why she broke up with me?
Me: *is attempting to read the comics at this point*
Man: You know why she broke up with me?
Me: I'm sure you're going to tell me... *continues reading comics*
Man: She said I was too unstable. That I just couldn't do anything right.
Me: *bites tongue*
Man: Can you believe it? Why would she say such a thing?
Me: *ignores*
Man: *rattles on*

Seriously, next time you feel the need to dump all of your problems on someone who happens to look like your exgirlfriend... Maybe you should consider a therapist. Not a university student who was attempting to read the news and really trying to ignore you. And if you do want to use me as a therapist again, I'll be charging you $20 for the duration of the bus ride - just for the sake of balance in the world.

Dear Kind Strangers,

Yesterday afternoon while I was on the bus going home I flashed my bus pass to the driver as usual and found somewhere to sit down. One of you sat down next to me and pulled out knitting (speaking of which, if I ever want to get that scarf done, I should start knitting it again).

And the thing is, I do attempt to avoid making public scenes. But something just... I don't know. And the next thing I knew, I was crying. Not like heaving sobs or anything. Just.. quiet tears. And someone noticed. And that person attracted the attention of more.

And I guess what I want to say is... Thank you. Thank you for taking the time to be concerned over someone you didn't know. Thank you for offering tissues and hugs. Thank you for just being there, even if I didn't explain a thing.

Sincerely,
Me

Dear Bus Driver,

This morning you pulled up behind the other bus and opened up your bus' doors. You basically caused chaos and those neat, single-filed lines to fall into disarray because no on was paying attention to who was where first. I didn't mind that too much - I wouldn't have gotten a seat on the bus otherwise. I broke from the line and ran (yes, ran - as in physical exercise, look what you made me do, Mister Bus Driver!).

You waited until everyone had gotten on before you pulled away from the curb (before the other bus too, tsk tsk) and continued on your merry way. You asked if people were having a good time, and those that were still awake did answer you. There was a general consensus that consist of "Ehhh" but what would you really expect when it wasn't even 8am yet?

At the first stop, when the bus was still overly full and there were a lot of people standing, you quipped something that I (at a pre-8am state) thought was quite funny. "Don't push and shove, folks! If you can't get to the door, just use a window. Remember to duck and roll!"

Now I'm sure you were joking, but you did happen to get one woman questioning you, who seemed to think that you were, in fact, serious. After all, she was asking you how to get the windows opened and she seemed quite insistent on following your orders of ducking and rolling.

But despite the odd person who took your joking seriously, you were a rather pleasant and cheerful bus driver and I must say I enjoyed this morning's ride significantly more than I normally do.

Thank you,
A transit user

P.S. I wonder if you or your fellow bus drivers keep blogs about the crazy patrons that you encounter on a day-to-day basis. If so, I would love to compare notes.

Dear Social,

I got on the bus before you this afternoon. We both got on at the bus loop by the mall and you sat down in front of me with, what I assume to be, your girlfriend. I say 'assume' because I can never tell if people are the type to make-out with people that they're not dating while riding public transit. Perhaps it's a nervous habit of yours.

But that is besides the point.

As the bus was pulling away from the stop and moving to get onto the street, there was a teenaged girl standing at the crosswalk and waiting for the bus we were in to round the corner. You turned your head first and went "Ohmifuckinggawd, it's Nicole!"

Your (girl)friend turns her head and goes "Ohmigawwwwd, it is, like, Nicole! What's she doing by herself?"

You reply: "I don't know. But that's so weird. She's, like, never alone. It'd be, like, seeing you alone."

...

(Yes, you really did say that many 'like's in your sentences. Like, for real. You could not stop. It was rather pathetic and I feel sorry for the English language.)

Now I realize, as much as the next person, that humans are fairly social. If you look to one of our closer animal relatives (monkeys), they are fairly social. They spend a lot of time together and are all very touchy-feely with one another. That isn't to say that they're incapable of being by themselves. There is nothing wrong with going to a bus stop by yourself or leaving the mall by yourself.

But then you pulled out your cell phone and told the girl next to you that you "Totally have to, like, text this to everyone."

Good job, kid. Because seeing a girl you know walking to the bus stop by herself is absolutely text-worthy. I mean, you could text about what you bought at the mall or that you're going to be late going somewhere or anything else, really. Instead, you were going to be texting "everyone" about how you saw this girl walking to the bus loop by herself.

Can you hear yourself speaking? Do you ever pause and reflect on the crap that comes spewing out of your mouth in the form of words? Or do you just move on, completely forgetting what you said 5 seconds ago because your memory can span around the same amount of time as a common goldfish? "Oh, look! A castle! ... Oh, look! A castle!"

There are so many more things that are more earth-shattering and more interesting and would make you look just the slightest bit more intellectual (because, trust me, you are in need of some IQ points) beyond seeing someone being by themselves.

If we can't be by ourselves, how can we truly appreciate the people around us when we have them?

Sincerely,
Antisocial Butterfly

Dear Graffiti Artist,

I appreciate art as much as the next person. I like Vincent van Gogh's Sunflowers and The Starry Night. I appreciate Monet and Dali and Picasso. I can also appreciate art done by people who aren't dead yet. I mean, sure, I'm not a fan of the Mona Lisa - but I do like art.

However, sitting down on the bus and looking up at the back of the seat that's in front of me and seeing a clean, plastic side is rather nice. Sitting down on the bus and looking up at the back of the seat that's in front of me and seeing phone numbers and "Call Anne for a good time at..." messages are rather annoying. Sitting down on the bus and looking up at the back of the seat that's in front of me and seeing random doodles of flowers, I can live with that. I doodle flowers and hearts and stars (yes, such typical girly things to doodle in the page margins) sometimes if I'm really bored.

But today, I sat down in an empty seat and looked up at the back of the seat that was in front of me and I saw a rather detailed image, mostly likely drawn with a Sharpie. I mean, I would say that you have some pretty good talent. Things were proportional, the angles were nice. You drew a scene. A girl on a couch, a guy by her side. Or rather, a guy on her and the girl struggling. There were cat ears on her, a tail slinking down the side, claws out. But you, and I'm assuming you're either a guy, drew the women with next to no clothing on.

Great. I kind of expected that. But what I didn't count on was the fact, that if I paid a little bit more attention to the image that I meant to, I could see that all the details you drew for the guy. The shadow of what was underneath his clothing, the way the hair was all brushed off to one side.

You have talent, I will grant you that. But you should be, perhaps, a little more selective in your canvas. But I guess if you're just looking to shock people and get your art out there, it's not a bad way to go.

Too bad they'll occasionally clean the buses and will take cleaners/bleach to it.

Sincerely,
Can't draw to save her life

Dear Owners of a Bundle of Joy,

I stood in the bus line. Yes, I realize that people have nicotine addictions. Yes, I realize that secondhand smoke is kind of unavoidable if I'm standing in a line. But if I really wanted to, I could just step out of line. I could move to stand downwind from you. I am physically capable of doing that.

Your baby, that precious little bundle of joy, who was sitting in her stroller sleeping?

She doesn't have a choice.

Both of you were smoking, rolling the stroller back and forth in what I can only assume is like a rocking motion for the baby.

You made the decision to give birth to your child. You keep her dressed and in a fancy stroller with toys hanging down in front of her. There were things that made rattling sounds, lights, mirrors, stuffies for her to chew on. You make all these decisions to better her life and her development.

But you're willing to smoke around her.

I don't get that, really I do not. I mean, you're willing to make all these decisions to make sure she's safe, happy, entertained and loved. But you will smoke around this baby. If she was a teenager, I wouldn't care because she would be capable of moving away from you. But instead, you're standing there, both with a cigarette in your hand and you both smoke and blow out smoke at the same time.

And there was no wind today. So I could see the cigarette smoke just drifting down and hanging around the stroller. And there was your little girl, just sleeping. And inhaling, and exhaling. Can you imagine what kind of effect that secondhand smoke is going to have on her three years from now? Ten years from now?

You have the chance to keep her healthy and safe. Instead, you're exposing her to something that could cause her to have asthma, to develop respiratory issues and other health problems. You have the chance to do right by her. And instead, you both stood there, smoking while your baby was sleeping.

If there was an award for the stupid parenting moves, I'm sure exposing your child to secondhand smoke on a daily basis would be up there, right under 'driving drunk with your child in the backseat'.

Sincerely,
A Coughing Fit

Dear Wannabe Druggies,

Today I was on the bus going home. The bus routinely stops at a bus stop near an elementary school. You two (two little boys, probably attend that elementary school across the street - cannot be more than ten years old age) got onto the bus, paid your bus fare and then started stomping towards the back of the bus. But you noticed that the back was full before you got all the way there so you sat down in the seats across the aisle from me.

I ignored you, like I normally attempt to do with people on the bus. I generally fail at this, I will admit, but then it wasn't my fault that I noticed what you were doing when I adverted my eyes from the sun.

You boys pulled out one of those pixie sticks out of your backpack (for those who are unsure, pixie sticks is basically flavoured sugar that comes in a plastic tube and is generally knocked back - I don't know why people just don't eat white granulated sugar sometimes). One of you bit the top side of it and opened it that way. Then you two separated the contents of the tube into your waiting palms.

And then instead of tossing it back like most kids do, you proceeded to snort it up. Like someone would do a line of coke, except you were snorting up a small pile of what amounts to sugar.

And then, oh dear, and then one of you said "Hey, if we get real good at this, my sister said that she'd be able to get us some coke." And then the other responded with "Sweet."

Then you two finished snorting up your pixie stick sugar, knocked back the rest, brushed off your hands and pulled the cord to signal to the driver that you wanted to get off.

And honestly, what the hell do they teach you in school these days? That it's okay to become a drug addict? That drugs are cool? Are you trying to mimic someone you saw in a music video or a movie? Because it's not cool. Your major concern at the age of 10 is if your mom is going to be putting a chocolate pudding into your lunch on Friday, or if you're going to get picked first for dodgeball in gym class. It should not be 'How fast we can get decent at snorting up sugar in order to get the sister to score us some coke'. You two honestly have some warped priorities and I sincerely hope that someone knocks some sense into you. And soon.

Sincerely,
Straightedge

Dear Old Bat,

So I was patiently patiently in an incredibly long line-up for the bus. It was very long, it went past four storefronts and continued snaking around the concourse of the undercover area that connected the train station with the bus stop. So everyone's a little grumpy due to the fact that there are limited seats on the bus and too many people wanting to get on it. But, for the most part, people are very polite in the morning and try to avoid pushing and shoving and we all line up in a single-file row to get onto the bus.

And by 'we all', I really don't include you.

You seemed nice enough, a little old lady with a cane and a huge and ugly sweater on with a brightly flowered skirt and very scuffed looking shoes on. You were rocking back and forth on your heels and just walked up to someone in the line and started talking to them. They didn't pay you any attention so you just walked away and then, when the bus was rolling up, you walked straight over to the front of the line and went 'Excuse me, dear' to the man that was at the front of the line, and got onto the bus.

Now this poses a few issues. One, you were cutting in line and just jumping the queue which is incredibly rude seeing as everyone else was lining up and waiting for their turn to get onto the bus. Two, if you had been in your 20s and were male, I'm sure than the man in the front of the line would have told you off - instead you're probably pushing 65 and female and look like a fragile little old lady. If he had told you off, you probably would have cried out harassment or assault. Three, there were other women who were probably as fragile looking as you were, but they were waiting in line just like everyone else - and your example isn't particularly good for everyone involved. And four, I just don't like people who just walk onto the bus when there's a line-up over a hundred metres long.

So no, I don't care that you're old or that you're frail or that you require the use of cane. If you are capable of walking your ass over to the front of the line from wherever you came from, you are perfectly capable of standing and waiting in line to get onto the bus instead of just cutting in front of a whole mess of people. Next time, you probably won't be cutting in front of someone so understand, you might be cutting in front of someone like me.

Sincerely,
Ticked-Off

Dear Mister Anatomy,

I spent roughly 30 minutes in a line up, holding onto roughly 20+ pounds (yes, lbs) of textbooks. Did I do it because I thought it would be fun? Umm... No. I did it because I needed this Human Anatomy and Physiology textbook for my biology course. Which is all fine and dandy. I had my backpack on, I was holding onto the textbooks in my arms in front of me and I got onto the bus with no problem. The bus ride was fine, my legs were a little sore from having so much weight on them for a relatively long period of time - but that was okay.

Then I got to the train station. I got a seat and I had my bag on the floor in front of me between my legs and my brand new textbooks on my lap. The cover was facing up (it's a woman doing ballet, it's actually a rather pretty photograph) with the words 'Anatomy and Physiology - 8th edition' clearly staring up at the ceiling of the train car.

And my transit experience today had so far been going fairly well - until you came along. You got onto the train car and sat down next to me. You tilted your head a little to check out the title of my textbook and then you made this stellar comment:

You really don't have to take a class on anatomy, you know. I could help teach you about the male anatomy.

I politely declined and you looked a bit disappointed, but then you gathered up your things and told me to reconsider it before you left the train car after the doors opened at the next station.

I never like being hit on while I'm riding public transit - it just makes me feel disgusted and wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong that I do get attention like this (and please, no one comment with "well if you stopped having your hair in pigtails while holding onto a clipboard with your school's insignia on it..."). But I don't know, what does a girl do in a situation such as this?

Sincerely,
Girl with the Heavy Bag

Dear Ghost Girl,

I was sitting in the train car first. Listening to music and minding my own business. I had my arms around my unfortunately heavy backpack and watched as the train rolled to stop at the next station to let people on. You walked in and sat down right across the aisle from me.

There was this moment when I just thought I recognized you. But something was different that made me hesitate to say your name out loud. Perhaps it was the sunglasses covering your face, perhaps it was the fact that you were keeping to yourself, as people tend to do on public transit. Perhaps it was because you looked more pale than usual, more white as a sheet, more ghost like. Or even perhaps it was because your hair was far too dark to be you. There were just so many things that were different that made me hesitate.

What if I say the wrong name? What if everyone looks at me like I'm crazy for randomly spouting off someone's name in the middle of the train car? What if you had earphones in and couldn't hear me speak?

But despite the sunglasses, your ghost-like appearance and the too-dark hair, I spoke your name out loud only to have you look up and go 'Hey!'.

So I guess in reality, this is not a letter to stranger. But sometimes, just sometimes, girls who are surrounded by perverts, morons and disgusting people on public transit are rescued by someone that she knows.

Sincerely,
Not-Mistaken

Dear Jerk/Asshole,

While I was on my way home today, I happened to get a seat on the train. Which is rather nice (and was expected, considering I get on at the first station). But then you got on at the next station and you started talking. Loudly, might I add.

While I appreciate that everyone feels that the trains are overly crowded (they are, as it is common for back-to-school) and everyone feels that there aren't enough seats (or rather, there's not enough train cars), I do have one complaint about your conversation that you were having with your friend.

You stated (and I quote): All women are either bimbos or hags. They'll either put out on the first date or expect you to wait until they get a ball and chain around your ankle.

Now let's assume that you are correct. urbandictionary.com tells me that a bimbo is "A girl who is stupid, wears lots of make up and is obsessed with boys and clothes. Generally blonde but there are exceptions. Usually hang around with other bimbos. You can spot them because they will be the big group of girls that all look the same and are giggling hysterically." The definition for a hag is "An unattractive, middle-aged (or slightly older) woman. The term is commonly used to describe hysterical or ugly women in positions of power."

Now, if this were true (and all women are either a bimbo or a hag) then I am either stupid, with a face caked with makeup, obsessed with both men and clothing and blonde. Or, I'm unattractive, middle-aged (or older) and in a position of power.

Well. I can't be a bimbo because I don't wear an absurd amount of makeup and I don't think that I'm that stupid. And I can't be a hag because I'm not middle-aged or in a position of power. Then what on earth am I?

I think you need to throw in a third category for everyone who's not stuffy, stupid or power-hungry.

Let's call it "women who just act like themselves and don't fall into a stereotype". But let's just say that you're right and that all women are bimbos or hags. Because I'm sure if someone were to argue with you while we were on the train, you would have called them one or the other.

And while we're at it, how about we could it up with only two categories for men: Jerks and Assholes. Guess which one you fit into!

Sincerely,
Girl Without Stereotype

Dear Misinformed,

This morning was my first day back at school. The buses and train cars were overly crowded, as always, but I sucked it up and got on and got back into the swing of things and managed to always get seats (go me). However, I did have an issue getting onto my first bus.

I got onto the bus with no problem after flashing my bus pass, but then halfway to the train station, the bus drivers switched and you asked to see everyone's proof that they had paid the fare. Okay, that's no biggie because I have a bus pass. I show it to you and you took it from me, flipped it over to see that there's a magnetic strip on the back and then you frowned.

You thought it was a fake because you hadn't seen the new bus pass yet for my school. So you called me on it, wanting to know why it was purple. Because, according to you, it was supposed to be pink (the colour of the summer term). I tried to explain that it was the one that I got in the mail (true) and as far as I knew, it was the correct colour as it also listed what the expiry date was (April 2009). So as far as I knew, it was the correct one.

I argued with you for like 3 minutes, telling you that it was an actual pass before I finally just got up, walked right past you and put it into the fare checker at the front of the bus by the driver's seat. I put it in, the machine beeped to say that it was fine and spat it back out. I pulled out my bus pass and sat back down with this oh-so-smug look on my face.

You didn't look pleased, but at least you didn't try to throw me off the bus. And for that, I thank you.

But if I ever see you again and if you ever question my bus pass again, I will call you on harassment since (if you do it again) it would count as harassment.

Sincerely,
Girl with the Purple Bus Pass