Tuesday, January 18, 2011


Shuttle bus of horrors
I fought diligently to remain by the bus doors where the metal pillars were, but as more and more people entered the bus, I was shoved towards the forsaken middle ground where I had no choice but to reach for a useless piece of metal 5 feet above my head. Go-go gadget arms? No, of course not. The world conspires against me. I tried not to glare at the tall male student sitting comfortably in the seat in front of me as I swayed precariously to and fro on the shuttle bus that was transporting me haphazardly from the hospital to the parking garage. Quite literally on my toes, with three fingers barely wrapped around the horizontal pole above me, I inwardly cursed at my luck.

Of course he (the tall, male student) had every right to be sitting in that seat, but I somehow found it difficult to forgive this stranger who was watching me struggle like a child reaching for a lollipop some bully was waving high above his head.

Go-go gadget arms! (See Inspector Gadget)
My legs were weary from working a 12 hour shift so I took even more irrational offense at his comfortable and uneventful ride while I was in fear of making a fool out of myself by stumbling around and/or falling on this student in front of me. Maybe that was what he deserved, but I would much rather be sitting than plotting revenge on an unassuming, innocent young man. Somewhat innocent.

In any other circumstance, I would be traveling with hubby- which then would greatly rectify the bus issue. I would naturally use hubby as my support device, an anchor, an immovable pillar of fortitude. If ever a sudden bump on the road would throw me off balance, I would rely on hubby to promptly, and swiftly rescue me. He would also use his body to shield me from the masses, or guide me quickly to an open seat.

So by being on this shuttle, by being abused and mocked indirectly for being 5'2", I gained precious insight into how valuable hubby is in my life. Thank you, hubby, for being my hero on the buses and trains of my life.