Behind the Scenes

An hour or so before the BF proposed, I was riding a rapid bus home from work. A few minutes after I climbed aboard, the bus stopped and picked up quite a few passengers, including a determined looking woman in gray sweats. Determined not because it looked like she had a specific purpose about her, but determined as though she'd led a life of staying a step or so ahead of the game. I'd glanced at her, only briefly noticing her focused expression and a vague representation of her garments, before reluctantly settling back into Infinite Jest.

But then. A few squeals and the familiar sense of commotion near the front of the bus. When something happens on board: a passenger falls, an empty soda can rolls according to the bus' inertia, doors swoosh open, you'll feel the event sight unseen. A change in pressure, noises registering in previously silent spots. It's an odd phenomenon.

I closed Infinite Jest (rather than saving my place) and looked up. The woman in the gray sweats sat alone on the right side of the bus' handicapped/elderly section. Facing her, though not looking directly at her, was a group of teenage girls squirming and covering their mouths. Before I could form a thought to pass judgement on the girls, the smell hit me. I took a more lasting look at the woman sitting alone. Her sweats were possibly not sweats at all; the clothes were so weathered, so dirty that it was hard to determine their sartorial origins. They could have been denim, wool, even tweed. As we bounded along, most passengers moved to the rear of the bus or clamoured for the exits whenever we approached a stop.

Throughout her time on the bus, she sat up straight, taking in her fellow passengers' reactions, completely lucid to the hubbub around her. At one point though, she hung her head low, slumped her shoulders, sighed and then stood up. The bus went silent. She calmly walked to opposite side of the bus, much to the horror of those occupying these seats, and pulled open the front windows. She then returned to her side of the bus and did the same. Taking her seat, her shoulders no longer sagged. Again, she sat up straight and looked around the bus, almost haughtily inviting a challenge.

When she got off the bus in Hollywood, all tension evaporated. Passengers shook their heads and smiled. For the rest of the time I was on that rapid and I'm certain well after I left, one of the teenager girls stood guard making it a point to warn others not to sit in the seat formerly occupied by you know who. The teen even offered up her own seat to an elderly woman who was determined to sit down.

I felt so conflicted about the whole experience. Often we bus riders (me included) tend to write off the occasional smelly passenger as an unbalanced homeless person. Sadly, they often are. Oblivious to others, they'll have arguments with themselves or overcrowd the little personal space of unfortunate riders. However, this woman was different. She could tell that the snickers and mean comments and changes in location had everything to do with her.

It broke my heart that she opened up all those windows. No one wants to be in such a position, no one wants to cause such a stir. Yet, she was absolutely with it. She knew people were moving away from her; she knew that the bus was much lighter because of her; she knew that the eye rolls and glares directed toward the driver for allowing such to happen on his watch were really, albeit passive aggressively, meant for her.

Can you imagine such a burden?

I try to stay away from the word "juxtaposition" because it reminds me so much of dealing with showy literature students. But after I got home, shouted "Of course!" between tears and laughter, enjoyed a celebratory dinner and made more happy phone calls than I can remember, I could think of no better characterization for my day. Suggestions are welcome.