Well said, Sister!

We all have strangers in our lives. Most days, we see more strangers than people that we know. Strangers are generally cool, because they are more or less low maintenance. You don't have to talk to them for instance.

In my daily routine, I see a lot of the same strangers every day. I am indifferent to the majority of them. Some leave me to ponder what their slice of life is like. A precious few make it to my dirty thoughts. And fewer still are hated by me.

Strangers are easier to hate than to love.

One particular stranger who happens to live in my building is well hated by yours truly. Not because of what he wears nor what he looks like. I hate him for one simple reason.

Bus stop etiquette. Or lack thereof.

You see, every bus stop has its unwritten rule of boarding. Take for example Don Mills and Eglinton. The rule at the northbound Don Mills stop is to form a line. The rule for the westbound Eglinton bus is to gather in a crowd. These stops are a mere metres apart in distance, but kilometres apart in culture.

My morning bus stop is not nearly as busy. The general rule is first at the stop gets on first. Mind you, I always get on last at this stop. So it may not make sense why what you're about to read bothers me so much.

This jerk, regardless of how many people are waiting at the stop, and how many were there first, always butts in front of everyone to be the first on the bus. See, by the time this bus gets to my stop, either everyone gets a seat, or no one does. It's not like there is only ever one seat left. This leaves me to conclude he's just a selfish asshole.

As of late, when I've seen this fool at the bus stop, he's been with what I presume to be his wife. A few weeks ago, it was raining. They showed up and joined the others in the shelter. Being the cool cat that I am, I was standing under a tree smoking. He was in a jacket, she was holding an umbrella

The bus came. He ended up boarding first. I boarded second, since most of the folks allowed me, being that I'm so cool. At this point the whole situation is in Whateverville in my mind - a true asshole comes up with a variety of irritants. Buddy is just a half-assed asshole.

So the point?

As is custom, the wife gets off at the first major street a few stops down. Buddy gets off at my stop.

As we approach the wife's stop, I hear her say, "You are a self-centred, inconsiderate ass!"

Made my day.

The reason for her outburst you ask? Buddy wanted her to give him the umbrella before she got off the bus because he was going further than her. Meanwhile, he's in a jacket and still on the bus. She's in a sundress and about to get off in the pouring rain.

I suppose spouses are sometimes easier to hate than to love as well.

Categories: Neighbourhood, People, Transit