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

Dear Mister Bus Driver,

I hopped onto the bus and within five minutes you were addressing the entire bus, informing us that we should keep our feet on the floor of the bus at all times, that we should keep our feet inside the bus and off of other seats because this was not our living room or bedroom, this was public transit.

I thought you were great for doing that, since it's gross when people have their bare feet against the poles that people touch with their hands.

Of course, the best part about you being the bus driver was that when you announced stops, you also announced which buses that people could transfer to, where the buses went and what numbers those buses where.

Seriously, you were the best driver I've had in a while.

Plus, telling people to keep their feet down or get off your bus? Very nicely done. Considering it's a disgusting habit that people have. I get having your shoes off when you're in your own car, because it is your own car. But in public transportation? Where there's chewed gum on the floor and occasionally on the seats and such? Gross.