"No farting on the bus."

A recent and wonderful life event has allowed me to explore another means of alternative transportation - the city bus. I now commute at least a few times a week, either one way or round-trip, between Santa Cruz and the mountain-town of Felton.

The bus is its own world. There are regulars on each route - both drivers and passengers. Here's what I've noticed so far about my bus-world:

1. Bus drivers are generally happy.
2. Bus riders help each other out. One lady needed change and four riders scrambled to make change for her so she could ride.
3. People like to sit in the same seats.
4. It's not unusual to smell body odor, cough drops, and marijuana on fellow passengers.
5. I like looking at all the different shoes people wear.
6. Buses are never early. This is good for me, because I tend to always be early for everything, so I will test myself and see how late I can (comfortably) arrive and still catch it.

I dig it 'cause for a dollar fifty, someone drives me where I need to go, and during the drive I can do whatever I want - read a book, write, watch traffic, look out the window at the city or the redwood trees, talk to strangers, and watch people.

One of the regulars I enjoy watching is a teenager with Down's Sydrome. He's high-functioning, pimple-faced, and smiles all the time. I think his name is Chris. Today he and I sat next to each other on the bench before boarding. Another regular walked by and Chris jumped up and extended his closed hand for a fist bump with the guy. The guy, beaming when he saw Chris' extended hand and big smile, said, "Hey, man, what's going on?" Chris said something in reply and the guy came back with "Another day another dollar, huh?" Chris didn't really get it but kept it alive with, "Yeah, yeah, another day another daughter." The guy started to correct him by saying, "No, Chris, "dollar""....but then stopped about halfway through.

After we boarded, the bus stopped in downtown Santa Cruz, in front of Trader Joe's. An old man, about five feet tall with tan, wrinkled skin and good posture boarded and sat next to me. As he sat, he greeted me in a French accent with, "Hello, young man." He was wearing a blazer, SAS shoes, a beret, and large glasses with rose colored lenses. He told me two jokes in the block-and-a-half that we rode together. I didn't know the punchline to either of them. As he pulled the stop-cord to tell the driver he wanted the bus to stop, he looked over his shoulder at me and said, "How do you entertain your girlfriend if you don't know good riddles?" Oh, if he only knew....

He was replaced with a middle-aged ex-hippie looking man with a large, unkept white moustache who sat next to Chris. They obviously knew each other from the bus from the way they were interacting. The ex-hippie guy was joking with Chris and said, "Hey, Chris, no farting on the bus!". Chris immediately replied with, "Too late!!" We all laughed (except the young girl in the pea coat reading Marie Claire magazine).