Dear Lady with the Autistic Child

So I saw you on the bus a while ago and you seemed like an alright type. I mean, I don't go out of my way to notice people on buses these days. I noticed that you had a small child with you, maybe around the age of 4-5?

He was noisy. So incredibly noisy. And he was running around on the bus while it was moving and you weren't making any efforts to slow him down. A well-meaning gentleman decided to talk to you about it, stating that perhaps you ought to do something about your child (like maybe ASK him to sit down?) before he (or someone else) got hurt. And what did you say to the well-meaning man?

Oh, he doesn't need to behave. He's autistic.

...

Oooookay then. Because that suddenly makes it better? Your son looks to you for social cues. He looks to you to know what's right and what's wrong. Perhaps he does have autism (I can't tell by looking a kid - for all I know he could be just bad at behaving on buses), but that is no excuse not to have him behave on public transit.

No excuse at all.

Sincerely,
Someone who knows better.

Dear Snot-Girl,

I was on the train yesterday when I noticed you. There wasn't anything particularly odd about you when I first noticed you. Until I realized what exactly you were doing.

Because, honestly, it's hard not to notice a girl talking on her cell phone with a finger sticking straight up her nose.

I averted my eyes at first, looking out the window, until out of the corner of my eye, I saw what you were doing once your finger left your nose. You continued talking on the phone, wiped your finger on the empty seat next to you, glanced down at your finger and then back in it went into your nose.

Which is disgusting. What if someone had done the same thing to the seat you were sitting in? Are you trying to spread germs? (Not that germs really need any help!) But it is just bad practice to pick your nose in public and then wipe it onto a surface that other people will touch. Have you heard of tissues? Or perhaps your own clothes that you will be wearing that are already exposed to all the pathogens that could be in your own mucous? Did you consider that?

Because, in case you haven't known, some people with comprised immune systems or chronic immune disorders are incredibly bad with common ailments that your immune system (or mine) could knock out in under a day. Some people with comprised immune systems can die from really common things, like a seasonal flu (or H1N1) or the common cold.

And, considering the statistics textbook and the school planner you were carrying, I'm guessing you were at least in 2nd year university.

Which means that you should know better. A lot better.

Sincerely,
Girl with better social skills

Dear "Yoga" Girl,

You got onto the bus today with your friend. You were carrying your backpack and a rolled up yoga mat and your friend commented that she didn't realize that you did yoga now. Imagine my surprise when I heard you speaking from the seat in front of me.

Girl: Oh, I don't actually do yoga.
Friend: Then why do you have a mat?
G: Because a lot more guys hit on me when I've got it.
F: *surprised* Seriously? How did you find that out?
G: Well you know X? She carries one and she always has hot guys talking to her.
F: But she actually does yoga!
G: Well, how will anyone ever know that I don't?
F: Good point!

Really? You carry around an object, albeit a light and fairly compacted object, just to attract the attentions of guys? What happens if one of them happens to do yoga as well and asks you where you do it? What happens if one of them wants to know where you go to do yoga so they can sign up for a class as well? What happens if someone asks you for recommendations for places to buy yoga mats or asks you which is the best instructor you've had so far?

Do you not think things through when you decide on a really weird scheme?

Perhaps I'm just odd, but I really don't see the point of making up such a lie (with props, no less!) in order to get guys to like you. If they decide to hit on you just because of your yoga mat, are they just as likely to hit on you if you didn't have it with you? Perhaps they would have spoken to you anyways, regardless of that rolled up mat that you've got with you. Perhaps they would have wanted to talk to you and find something out about you that is true.

What will happen if one of these guys who will hit on you (allegedly) because you have a yoga mat with you decides to ask you out on a date? What happens if this relationship becomes remotely casually-serious? Are you going to tell them that you've just decided to stop going to yoga or are you going to fess up to this stupid lie that you've concocted?

Because really, I want to know how you think this will play out.

Sincerely,
Girl without a yoga mat

Dear Woman with Books,

When you accidentally hit someone with your bag full of books, it is customary in this country (Canada) to apologize to said person and then, perhaps, sit down (since there were available seats on the bus). It is not, however, polite (or legal...) to look at the person who said 'ouch' when you first hit them (that person being me) and then giving them a look of disgust while you go "That didn't hurt!" and then proceed to swing your bag (full of books) back at that person, that you had already hit once, right in the ribs.

Let's have a lesson today from the Criminal Code of Canada:

(1) A person commits an assault when
(a) without the consent of another person, he applies force intentionally to that other person, directly or indirectly;
(b) he attempts or threatens, by an act or a gesture, to apply force to another person, if he has, or causes that other person to believe on reasonable grounds that he has, present ability to effect his purpose; or
(c) while openly wearing or carrying a weapon or an imitation thereof, he accosts or impedes another person or begs.

And next time you want to hit someone with something, don't do it on a bus with witnesses and a bus driver who asks the person being hit if they want to call the police. It's not particularly very smart.

At least you had the intelligence to run. I really wouldn't have had an issue with the first hit (the unintentional one) if you had at least the manners to apologize for it. I wasn't asking for a gold engraved plaque stating your apologies, just a simple "sorry" would have done.

Sincerely,
Girl with the bruises

Dear Leash Holder,

I really don't understand the point of putting your child (your child, by the way, who was a little bit older than a toddler age, I believe) on a leash. I don't understand the point of it unless, perhaps, you were in a very busy place like an amusement park and you know your child is prone to wandering off because something shiny caught their little eyes.

See, proper child leashes I can understand (sort of, I'm still at a lost at why you would want to leash your child to begin with). Made of real fabric, probably a padded harness that fits around their shoulders and loops around their middle, a long strip of something resembling the ends of the straps on a backpack to lead from the child to you. The 'real' child leashes.

Putting your child onto a leash that was a chain with it being looped around their middle and extending to your hand? It was like you decided to take Fido's leash and use it on your child one morning and decided that it'd be perfectly okay.

I question the intelligence of people fairly often. But putting your older-than-3 (or so) daughter on a leash meant for a canine while you're walking on the sidewalk and getting onto the bus and you're holding onto her hand the entire time is kind of overkill.

What did people do before child-leashes were made available on the market? Just lose their children everywhere or were they maybe better at disciplining their children and better at keeping track of their own children? At the very least, just get something to leash your daughter that doesn't look like you stole it off of your poodle.

Sincerely,
Disgusted

Dear Excessive Giggler,

Do you realize how fucking annoying it is to be sitting on the bus, listening to music at a fairly moderate level (just enough to drown on the inane chattering that's going on on the bus but not so high that I can't hear emergency vehicles driving pass when they have sirens on) and then you come onto the bus. It's not my fault that the only available seat left when I got onto the bus was one near the back doors. It's also not my fault that you couldn't get a seat.

But did you really have to fucking to start giggling at every single little thing that your friend said?

The new Vancouver mayor. Giggle.
The new president. Giggle
The morning paper you had in your hand. Giggle.
The bus coming to a sudden stop. Giggle.
The other bus patrons wanting to come onto the bus, pushing by you. Giggle.

Fucking hell, woman. Could you have just stayed silent for one moment? No, of course not. I turn up the volume on my music and I could still fucking hear you.

Next time that I see you, I swear someone on the bus (maybe it'll be me, maybe it won't be) will duct tape your mouth shut.

Sincerely,
Annoyed

Dear Moronic Bitch,

Today, I was in the only line for the bus that I take. The. Only. Line.

The bus rolls up and people start filing on. I was third in line. To be fair I was actually the first person at the bus stop, I just didn't join into the line until the other two people showed up. You showed up maybe two minutes before the bus rolls up. You're somewhere by the garbage can (perhaps you should have stayed there...?) and then you go to the very front of the line - despite the fact that there's approximately 15+ people in the line behind me waiting to get onto the bus.

The guy in front of me steps onto the bus. That's fine, he was ahead of them. Then you step right in front of me and I take a step forward to go onto the bus and then you turn around, glare at me and call me a cunt for trying to 'butt in line' ahead of you. And then you go onto this whole spiel of how "preteen girls need to learn to show respect to their elders".

Seriously? Seriously?

Eighteen is not "preteen". Preteen is generally a term reserved for 11 and 12 year olds. And if you really want anyone to show you some respect, maybe you ought to show some common courtesy for the rest of the people in the world. Like... getting in line. And waiting. Just like everyone else. Plus, calling someone a cunt for wanting to get onto the bus when they were waiting in line long before you were in the line is a very rude thing to say.

So no... I don't really feel that bad for calling you a moronic bitch today. I should feel bad for it. If it were anyone else, I probably would. But I don't really feel bad about it at all.

Sincerely,
Annoyed

P.S. Readers, this lovely woman appeared to approximately mid-30s/early-40s. Really, show respect for that? No, thank you.

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 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 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 Woman with the Cell Phone,

You sat down next to me on the bus this evening, I had no problem with that. You pulled out your phone and started chatting with your friend, I also had no problem with that. What I do have a problem is was that you pulled out your cell phone, started chatting with your friend and then proceeded to loudly tell your friend all about how your vagina was itchy.

Yes, it's all find and dandy that you are having issues with your girly bits. But must you really yell these problems out into your cell phone so that everyone else can hear it as well? Honestly, is it so much to ask for you to just whisper the damn problems that you have with your current (I'm assuming this part) yeast infection to your friend? Just go to the doctor, get something for it, and keep your trap shut about it on the bus. Decorum, woman, something that you do not possess.

So go to your bookshelf, pick up a dictionary and find the word, realize that you don't possess any, and then find some. I'm sure it's available on eBay.

Dear Little Girl,

I was minding my own business while I was sitting down on the train, honest. It was not my fault that you and your equally young looking friend sat down down in front of me. At first glance, I would have said that you two were around grade 10, 16 years old or so. And goodness, wasn't I surprised when I overheard your conversation? (F is 'friend' and Y is 'you')

F: You're so lucky! You've got to be the only girl in our school dating someone that's four years older!
Y: I know, right? He's awesome.
F: And cute. I can't believe you're dating a guy in grade 11.

[Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold it. Grade 11? Four years older? That's right readers, depending on when he and she were both born, she's either in grade 7 or grade 8.]

Y: Yeah, I was talking to my mom last night.
F: Oh, what did she say?
Y: She's totally cool with it. She said that if I'm dating a guy in grade 11, I should expect that he'll want me to put out. She made us appointments so that I can everything wax.
F: Oh, that's so exciting!

You're in grade 7 (or 8, I don't know when you were born). That means you're either 12 or 13. And you're dating someone who's in grade 11 (ages 16 or 17)? And your mother allows this? She's even encouraging you do to this by taking you out to get waxed? That is not exciting, that is painful. Very, very, very painful. I cannot believe that your mother is telling you that the boy would expect to have sex (although it is true) and then encouraging it further by getting you ready for it.

When I was 12, my largest concern was if my crush-of-the-week liked me back. Your biggest concern at 12? Bikini or Brazilian. Does that sound remotely normal in today's society? You should be worrying about regular pre-teen stuff. Like when the new episode of Gossip Girl is going to be on, not having your mother tell you that you're going to be expected to spread your legs, so you better get ready. And what does that say about your grade 11 boyfriend? He can't get a girl in high school? He can't get a girl his own age? He has to resort to someone who's barely a teenager? It's a social taboo to be dating someone that many years older/younger than you are when you're still in grade school.

Seriously, once you get out of high school, flirting and dating and kissing guys that are like 6 years older than you, is not that big of a deal because when you talk about him, you're not going 'Oh, he's in grade 11'. It's more like 'Oh, he works [here]' or 'He goes to the same university/college as I do'. That's fine.

Besides, the legal age for sex in Canada is 14. You're (at most) 13. Seriously, keep your legs shut and seriously think of why your oh-so-hot grade 11 boyfriend can't find a girl in high school to date.

(Please note, it's definitely not because you're more mature than they are.)

Dear Disrespectful,

So the train platform was crowded like it normally is. There were a lot of people just waiting for the train to show up. Which is fine, because it's normal. However you were just standing there, patiently waiting with the rest of us. You appeared to be a nice old lady until the train arrived.

You pushed and shoved towards the doors, telling us all that you were elderly and needed to use a cane so that you ought to get onto the train first. You pushed me back and told me that people my age ought to wait until after everyone else had gotten a seat on the train first. Someone had to take a step back, towards you with his back turned to you, in order to let some people on the train off first. You started sputtering and demanded myself and another young person on the platform to help you by standing up for you.

We both claimed to not see a thing.

See, the problem with your logic is that you were demanding us to stand up for you, to defend you, when you were just this callous, cranky old woman who was demanding respect all because you were older than we were. Do you expect to receive a medal just for being alive longer than we have? I'm sorry, lady, but it just doesn't work that way. We bit our tongues to keep from lashing back at you.

We all piled onto the crowded train and then you reached out with your cane (the one that you don't even use when you're walking) to hit someone in the leg and then you barked at them, telling them that you are old and elderly (which is redundant, by the way) and everyone had to get off the train in order for you to even get to the seat, which the man gave up without a fight.

And just one stop later, you stood up and then hit someone repeatedly in the leg for them to move so that you can leave, even though there was enough room for you to leave and he wasn't even in your way.

You're a bitter, angry and hurtful woman. Just because you have been breathing longer than the rest of us doesn't give you the right to physically assault people with your cane (you know, the one that you don't even use when you're walking) and it certainly doesn't given you the right to push people around and expect them to defend you when someone pushes you back.

Grow the fuck up, and learn that you can't assume that people will respect you just because you're older than we are. Respect needs to be earned, and you certainly have not earned mine.

Dear 'Granny',

So a few days ago, I was on the train. I was minding my own business and sat down and was listening to music (The Ataris, if anyone is interested in my musical tastes, although I doubt it) and then I wasn't really paying attention.

The first stop, which is a major one because it crosses with another train line, you got onto the train. You looked like a pleasant senior citizen. With your gray hair, flower-patterned bag, and you sat right down next to me and turned so that you were completely facing me and staring at me. Yes, it was incredibly awkward for me to be sitting there, knowing that you were just blatantly staring at me. Yes, I thought you were creepy and wanted to move. And no, I wasn't about t give up my seat when I was going to be on the train for the duration of 10 stops.

The next stop, however, one of the transit cops got on and started asking to see everyone's tickets. I pulled mine out, in a plastic protective case, and just held it up for the cop to see. I wasn't really paying attention to what you were doing. Until I realized that you were speak to the transit cop about me. I pulled out my ear phones and heard you telling the man that I was your granddaughter and that I was holding onto your bus ticket for you!

I challenged you, of course, as I could see where you were going with this scam of yours. You claimed that I was holding onto your bus pass. I denied knowing you and you started throwing a small fit about how you raised me and how you were when I was born. Which was a line of bull. I demanded that you tell the officer my name, you got my first name right (most likely because my first name is on a label on my water bottle, which I drank from during the duration of one stop). However, I also demanded then that you tell the officer my last name as well (which is on my student bus pass). You got it wrong and the officer handed my pass back to me and asked you to go off of the train with him at the last stop.

Do you realize how disgusting it is that you tried to take advantage of the transit system like that? That you were trying to pass off someone as your grandchild? I wonder, really, if you were going to play the senile card when you got off of the train, claim to the officer that you were confused and really thought that I was your granddaughter. I wonder if you were fined or if he decided to let you off with a warning. I mean, it was creeping me out already with you sitting there and staring at me, but claiming that I'm your granddaughter? How low can a person sink? I hope you were fined the maximum amount that they'll fine someone who doesn't a valid transit fare on them. I also hope that I never see you again. Or rather, if I do, I hope I refrain from throwing something at you.

Dear Little White Supremacist,

I am very sure that you know who you are. You got on the 3 o'clock bus that left the bus loop at school and were standing with your friends. Who look exactly like you, and were all happily speaking in Mandarin. You on the other hand, decided then to begin your rant about Asian people and their culture.

For instance, from what I could hear you were basically saying that:
- Asian cuisine is not real food.
- The lunar calendar is not real and is completely wrong.
- Asian parents are not real parents because you, as a baby, were adopted by a nice set of 'real parents' (read: white).
- Chopsticks are not real utensils and only uncivilized people use them.
- Asian languages are obsolete and English is far superior to all Asian dialects.

Now for my counter-arguments:
- Food is food. If it is edible, you can ingest it and it gives your body nutrients, it counts as food.
- The lunar calendar is just like the solar one, only it bases time on the moon cycles, there's nothing wrong with it.
- Asian parents, and parents of any other cultural background, are real parents. No explanation should be needed for this one.
- Chopsticks are actually more clever than metal forks, spoons and knives are. I mean, for chopsticks, all you need is two sticks. Granted, you might want to sand them down or else you'll end up with splinters, but they're far more simpler to produce, in terms of mass-production.
- Shanghai has ~18 million people for that single city's population. Hong Kong has ~7 million. Tokyo has ~12.8 million. The entire continent of Asia (including Russia, Middle East, India and the South East Pacific Islands) makes up 3.9 billion of the world's population, which stands at about 6.5-7 billion people. Congratulations, you just said that over half of the world's population's first and native languages are obsolete.

I was especially pleased with the bus driver when he asked you to leave because you uttered a comment about how everyone in China should die. Yeah, that was very mature of you. Plus, despite your fuss, you know that your so-called friends are probably going to delete you off of their Myspace or Facebook accounts when they get home tonight. Wasn't it nice of the driver to ask you get off when it was pouring rain outside? I hope you were sporting the drowned-rat look well today.

Go to hell and have a nice day.

Dear Shopaholic,

It's the time for shopping. Under a week to Christmas and people are eager to do their Christmas shopping. I know that malls are generally a little crowded and there seems to be a need to get all shopping done in one go.

But honestly, if you're going to be on the bus, could you not have probably around a dozen large shopping bags with you? Especially when it's during the peak times for students to be on bus and especially not when you have your bags taking up the two seats next to you. Not only is it inconsiderate to be taking up the seats with your shopping, it's also not very environmentally friendly to have so many plastic bags. Ever heard of cloth bags? They'll hold up to more wear and tear than plastic ever will and it's more reuseable.

If you're going to do massive amounts of shopping, try being a little bit considerate to your fellow transit patrons. After all, you don't see anyone else on the bus taking up three whole seats - two of the seats with their shopping!

Cheers and happy holidays.

Dear Little Old Lady,

This afternoon when I was very tired and I got onto the bus after the train to go home, you were in the line to get onto said bus in front of me with your friend. Both of you are probably considered to be senior citizens and you both had the paper bus passes to put into the ticket machine to verify that you had, in fact, paid for your transfers.

Your friend's ticket was fine, your's however had expired and you continued to walk towards a seat anyways. The bus driver called you back to tell you that your ticket was no good and that you would have to pay again, he had checked the time stamp on your transfer and it had expired over an hour ago. You just smiled and waved to him, shaking your head before you sat down.

A man in front of you was trying to explain it to you and you spoke to him as if he was an annoying pest. The bus driver told the man to explain to you that you needed to pay, but the man just shook his head and said that you were speaking Korean and that he spoke Chinese and therefore could not successfully communicate with you.

The woman sitting next to this man who had tried to explain that you needed to pay for another transfer went up to the bus driver with some change and offered to pay for your transfer for you and the bus driver thanked the woman, but declined her offer. According to him, and he had been driving that particular bus that starts off at the station at 3:20pm, that you had been coming onto the bus every single day for the last two weeks with an expired transfer.

He said very loudly that you were lucky this time and that the next time he was going to get nasty and call the transit cops on you.

You got off a few stops later and gave the bus driver this huge smile as if he had done some great favour for you and you were on your way with your half a dozen grocery bags.

If you had enough money to buy junk food (white translucent bags showed off your collection of cans of Pringles and plastic tubs of candy) you obviously could afford to pay less than $3 so you wouldn't have to walk the 4 blocks that you took the bus for.

Dear Woman with the God-Complex,

I was sitting on the bus late this afternoon when you and your daughter got on. She is perhaps four years old and had her curly hair tied back with neatly curled ribbons and she had a matching dress, white knee socks, shiny black shoes and a matching rain poncho. I couldn't help but think that perhaps you had chosen her outfit out for her. Which probably isn't very far off it's mark as your outfit just happened to be all black while her main colour was baby pink.

She was sitting there, legs crossed just like her mommy and about every five seconds you would lean over and touch your hand to the small of her back and she would sit straighter, like someone had put a straight bar of iron behind her and told her to make sure her entire back was touching it. You scolded her when she reached to touch her hand to the window, telling her that was it was very dirty and that she wasn't allowed to touch it. She pouted and you scolded her some more, threatening to take away her toys at home. With that comment, she pouted some more and wanted to know when the two of you would be home.

You just look down at her and bite out the word 'soon' and go back to reading today's paper. I was appalled by your behavior, certainly. But far be it for me to judge your parenting skills. And despite the fact that I really wanted to say something, I kept my mouth shut.

Then your daughter proceeded to tell you about what 'Al' had just told her. From what I could gather, Al was your daughter's (imaginary) friend. But you kept on telling her that Al was just made up and that he wasn't really there, that he didn't existed. you told her to stop making up stories, that Al wasn't really there and if he was, he would tell you to stop making up stories.

I watched your daughter cross her arms, her eyes get watery and then she protested. I was nearly going to start applauding her for standing up for herself.

"But Mommy, Al is real! He's sitting right there!"

She points to a seemingly empty seat and start telling you that Al is making funny faces and blowing a raspberry, she demonstrates. And you get angry at her for 'acting out' and 'trying to get attention'.

At the next stop you two get off and she starts pulling at your arm to stop you from leaving because Al wasn't up from his seat yet. And then you just pick her up around her waist and take her off the bus, and as the bus is pulling away, she's screaming for Al because you'd left him on the bus with a 'bunch of strangers'.

That little girl probably wasn't even in kindergarten yet and all she wanted was you to wait possibly five seconds for Al to catch up and you just picked her up and took her off the bus without regarding her feelings. And when I looked back after hearing her screaming for him? You just continued walking with her looking over your shoulder, arms stretched out, mouth open in mid-scream.

When I was four, because my older siblings were so much older than I was, and I hadn't started school yet, I had my fair share of imaginary friends too. The neighborhood that I lived in didn't have that many children close to my age (and still doesn't). My parents probably did think that it was weird, but they never questioned it. They just played along, occasionally going as far as addressing my imaginary friends only for me to to go 'they aren't over there, mom, they're here'. To a child who has no siblings close to their own age or neighborhood children to play with, an imaginary friend or (mostly in my case, being Collie - a polar bear) a stuffed animal (that only comes to life with the Grown Ups aren't around) is basically all they really have in terms of someone to play with. I had tea parties and dress-up games with my stuffed animals. I would build forts out of the couch cushions and set up specific stuffies to be my 'tower guards' and the other ones would all get their own respective roles.

I hope you open the door someday this week only to have your daughter dance around the room and go 'Al's back, Mommy, he's back!'. Because your daughter needs someone to spend time with other than a maternal figure who couldn't wait for her friend to get off the bus too or a maternal figure who doesn't let her child exercise her creativity to its maximum potential.

Al should meet Collie one day, I think they would get along well.

Dear Ignorant Woman,

You walked onto the bus before I did yesterday afternoon, your head held high and you were wearing a bright purple swishy skirt and a black coat that didn't look particularly waterproof and looked like it had once seen better days. You had black boots that were scuffed and you had your hair pulled back with a sparkly pink headband that had a pony on it - a yellow one.

And you seemed like a perfectly decent adult woman, until you opened your mouth the first time after you sat down.

You started chatting with the woman sitting near you, about just how horrible teenagers are that live around you. About how teenagers were always getting drunk, and smoking on your front lawn. About how when you were a teenager that everyone was just so mean to you and how they are continually awful as the years go by. You talk about how the kids were always getting into alcohol and cigarettes and about how this one time, you knew this fourteen year old girl who had gotten drunk, beat up on her mother and stole the family car.

And then you shot a glare at me and went "And teenager girls are just the worse of them all".

And at that, I had to speak up. I don't exactly take crap like that sitting down.

Well, I was sitting down, but that is another story entirely.

You asked me if I was a teenager, and I answered honestly with a 'yes'.

And then you just sneered and nodded your head at that. Going 'uh huh' like that was suddenly permission for you to glare at me some more and just think that I'm a budding alcoholic and a drug addict and generally a bad person.

I'm sorry. But you, you fucking stupid bitch, are a stranger to me. You don't know me, you don't know what I have or have not done before in my life. I'm sure that teenage girls when you were a teenager girl were horrible to you. But then, hey, what goes around comes around. You were probably not a total sweetheart yourself at that age and you even said that your father threatened to beat you if you ever laid a hand on your mother. Yeah, you actually had to be warned prior to causing physical harm to your mother. On the other hand, my father never had to threaten to hurt me to warn me off from hurting my mother since I never had the urge to cause her physical harm. I don't drink, I don't smoke or play with recreational drugs, I don't sleep around and don't have any sexually transmitted diseases.

Yes, it may surprise you but I did hear that nasty little comment you said about how "All teenage girls have just dozens of STDs. Little nasty whores, all of them."

And when I tried to put in a word, trying to explain that perhaps you knew the slutty kids in high school but how not all kids were like that, you just steamrolled me and continued on about how "all teenage girls" were just nasty human beings that were scuzzy and disease-ridden and pregnant whores.

You, lady, are an idiot. But because karma is a bitch, I picture you three years in the future with at least a dozen STDs (I'm more generous than you are, I don't picture you with 'just dozens' of STDs), very lonely and being harassed by those former-teenage girls at your 20th high school reunion.

Have a nice life?

Dear Woman With the Red Scarf,

We were on the same bus together today at about 4pm. You had on a white jacket, black pants and a red scarf. Plus, you were carrying a brown leather bag that was bursting with random things that kept on falling out and you were chatting on your cell phone.

Thank you so very much for glancing around the bus with disdain when you realized that you had to stand up because all the seats were taking. Also thank you for enlightening us with your cell phone conversation because you were practically shouting what you were saying.

I apologize that you had to endure your bus ride of all of 10 minutes with a 'bus full of freaks'. It must have done horrible things to your ego to be on a bus full of people that weren't of the same ethnic group as the one you were born into. I especially loved the way you glanced around and started telling your 'sweetums' on the other end of the phone conversation that you were stuck on a bus full of 'terrorists' and 'suicide bombers'. That and you went on about 'chinks' and 'Japs'. It was so very polite of you to do that.

And then there was how you were glancing around and saying just how unsafe you felt because there were so many of 'those people' on board the bus (you know, that comment you made after saying just how full the bus was of all those "damn terrorists").

With your bleach-blonde hair and hate-filled blue eyes, I'm sure that Hitler would have loved to meet you.

I sincerely hope that I never see you again because you were just a horrible bitch. If you have such a problem with people that aren't of Scandinavian descent, I suggest moving to northern Europe. Just a little suggestion.

Cheers.