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