Public Transportation & Me

I know that I've been silly, that I've been living in denial all these years. What can I say? Hope springs eternal, even for a cynic like me. But, I know that I should have accepted certain consistent turns of fate long ago. Mainly: (a) I should never envision what I want to buy before I go out shopping because the mere act of mentally conjuring up what I want ensures that I will never find it, (b) checks will never arrive on or before the day that they are promised, so paying bills from said checks will only end in overdraft fees, (c) if I wait over an hour for a table at a restaurant, they will long since have sold out of the only dish I wanted to order, and, last but not least, (d) if there is a crazy person on a system of mass transit, he's going to sit next to me. And, as it so happens, as I boarded the bus from Damen to North and Clyburn on Friday afternoon - crazy found me and made himself at home. (If I were more interested in the horror genre, wouldn't Stephen King be so jealous of my set up? Him or Forrest Whitaker and "The New Twilight Zone"? I know "a bus ride with crazy" is a better premise than Jessica Simpson being turned into a doll by the anti-social kid she babysits.) Anyway, I should have known that something was wrong because within a minute of sitting down, I noticed that the man next to me started squirming in his seat, moving his shoulders up and down, and poking at me. When I turned to look at him, he stepped up his act and made a face. That's when I got that he thought I was crowding him in his seat. (This was ridiculous because (a) no one gets ample room on a city bus during rush hour and (b) as a fully grown man he had at least 40 pounds on me.) But, I was considerate; I pulled my bag closer to my chest and tried to scooch over. (Of course, I also pulled my bag to my chest in case he was one of those "uses his elbow to grope women's boobs on the bus/subway" kind of guys. After all, I watch Dateline. I know what's up.) Then, the standard warning came over the loudspeaker that any suspicious or unattended packages should be reported to the transit authorities immediately, and man next to me added, loudly, "Packages...Terrorists." It was uncalled for, but maybe he thought it was informative for others on the bus. At this point, I was willing to dismiss him as persnickety, but maybe not "crazy." At the next stop, a woman boarded in a bright yellow sun dress, and the man sitting next to me looked her straight in the eye and said, "Canary." I don't know if it was a comment on the color. I don't know if he was telling her she looked like a yellow songbird. I don't know if he was just trying to give his tongue a workout. With it only being the 1 word comment, it's hard to tell, but the woman smiled politely before nearly sprinting to the back of the bus. Little did I know that she was the lucky one. When the next passenger got on, my favorite bus buddy looked at her and said, "Blue hair...I hate f***ing vampires." Now, I could have been bothered by the hostility in his voice. Or, I could have been upset because he couldn't look past the superficial in a lovely young woman obviously still trying to find herself in the world. I could have even been bothered by the cursing. But, sadly, none of these are what really got me. As a dork and big fan of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," it was the complete lack of logic in his correlation that got on my nerves. (Anyone who might be tempted to point out my use of "logic" and "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" in the same sentence obviously does not accept/love the "fun" contradictions that comprise quirky little old me.) Nowhere in the vampire legend is blue hair connected specifically with vampires. Pale skin because they can't handle sunlight? Yes. Fangs, an inability to have a reflection in a mirror, having to sleep in soil from their homeland, eternal life, an aversion to garlic and holy water, wooden stake issues, etc.? Of course. I would even accept a comment based on modern perceptions of vampires like black hair, dark clothes, capes, and bat necklaces. But, I must stand firm on the blue hair. It's just not there. Unfortunately, when I was well into minute 5 of this thought process and thinking about actually saying something to my fellow CTA rider about his inaccuracy, I realized that I might need to re-evaluate who was the "crazy" in this scenario.