Resting Pulse: Not Recorded
Weight: 167 lbs.
Course: None
Distance: Zero
Time: N/A
Other Exercises: Crunches
Weather: N/A

Comments: I skipped my run today. I shouldn't have, but I did. This is turning into a continuing theme. (I did do some crunches though.)

Since nothing exciting happened today, let me tell you about a little adventure Angie and I had last week. We went downtown to watch Episode III at Cinerama, and since we didn't want to deal with traffic and parking, we rode the bus. This meant we had to take the bus home, at night, on one of the less desirable routes.

For a short while, we had the bus to ourselves. Then, a few stops later, about a dozen people poured on. A woman sat down in the seat in front of us. She looked normal, but she smelled like she'd fallen into a vat of tequila. A man stumbled down the aisle flopped into the seat across from us. He mumbled incoherently under his breath and seemed to have great difficulty staying upright. The last person on the bus was a man with a cell phone pressed to his ear. Instead of taking a seat, he paced the near the front of the bus.

I buried myself in my book until I realized the bus had stopped. I realized I heard raised voices. I looked up from my book and saw that the driver and the cell phone man were arguing. The driver tried to hand Cell Phone a piece of paper and said, "Take your transfer and get off my bus."

Cell Phone said, "This is the last bus home. I can't get off." He didn't take the proffered transfer slip.

"Get off my bus or I'll call someone to drag you off."

"Whatever." Cell Phone sat down on the seat reserved for the handicapped and crossed his arms, frowning.

The driver reached for his radio, keyed it, and said, "Could you send someone down to my bus on Second and Jackson? I've got someone who refuses to get off." There was a paused as he listened to the dispatcher on his earpiece. Then he said, "He was all MF this and MF that, and when I asked him to get off, he refused."

"This is just because I swore?" shouted Cell Phone. "I apologized for that. I just found out my friend got shot last night—two times in the head. I swore, yes, but I apologized. This is the last bus home."

The driver shut off the engine and stepped off the bus, clearly disinterested in anything Cell Phone had to say.

We waited on the stopped bus for ten minutes. Cell Phone sulked inside while the driver stood on the sidewalk outside. The only sound I heard was the man across the aisle mumbling to himself in a low, steady drone. Finally, the police arrived.

An officer came on the bus and walked up to Cell Phone after the driver pointed him out. "Come on, let's get off the bus and talk about this."

Cell Phone stood and followed, but he stopped at the door. "This is the last bus home. If I get off, how am I going to get back?"

The officer said, "The driver doesn't want you on the bus, and you have to do what the driver says."

"Look, I just found out—just now—my friend got shot last night. I'm just trying to get home, and this is the last bus. How am I supposed to get home if I get off?"

"That's not my problem," said the officer. "Just get off the fucking bus."

Cell Phone clicked his tongue in annoyance, but complied. The driver had the bus started and underway seconds later.

Personally, I thought the driver acted a bit unfairly. But then I missed most of the argument, and I didn't have some guy up in face either. To keep things in perspective, I saw on the news that a couple of days after this encounter, a passenger assaulted a bus driver over $1.50. Also, this is the city where, for no good reason, a passenger shot a bus driver—while he was driving across a bridge, no less. My point: I'm glad I'm not a bus driver.  ¶ 9:45 PM