Take to the Skies - Part 2

 by the Wanz

(Ah-haha, so I’m transcribing this from my notebook in a café since I actually wrote this second entry on my plane ride home a little less than a week ago. Scribbled to the left of the title is a reminder note from myself that I was “seated beside the worlds’ two smallest adult bladders!” But I digress, back to the actual entry…)

The preparations one endures to get to a flight on time are tale enough. Once you’ve gotten to the gate (and if the plane is still there) then you’ve reached a major checkpoint in the game we call “flying.” Now, the second half is pretty much just endurance of people, your environment, and of course, airplane food (the deadliest digestional game). It’s time for Part Two – In-Flight Entertainment:

Before delving into boarding, we’re going to take a step back and touch on the deadly abyss known as flight delays (i.e.: the übersuck of flying). These delays intensify the whole waiting process and potentially screw over flyers who need to catch connection flights. They are, again, the übersuck, since they occur for countless and sometimes unexplainable reasons (late flights, mysterious mechanical issues, weather, black holes, etc.) and you never really know how long it’ll take or how it will impact your trip (the horror!!)  and it’ll inevitably bring out the crazy in the already stressed out flyers-to-be.

Anywho, onto boarding – the final line! (Well, until the de-boarding process anyway.) It’s kinda an epic moment…. That and an epic clusterfuck! Depending on the airlines, boarding lines occur differently (some with boarding groups, some have lines, it’s kinda whatever) but the same always occurs; the amoeba-effect. Everyone gets up from their seats and clumps together so that when they are allowed to board, they can be the first in line—even if they are in the last group (no one wants to be the last person in the last group to board the plane, right?)—cause you want to be first in line to get your seat on the plane and… what? Sit for 2-12 hrs? in the same place? with minimal moving?! It’s the epic, linear conclusion before the in-flight entertainment kicks-in. And the people who sneak ahead of their group, well dressed, uptight, and with a faux-sense of entitlement—to the back of the line they go!!

After getting to your seat (and upon seeing if there’s overhead bin space) you get to know those seated beside and around you. This is more random than the freshman year roommate lottery. Everyone (except for those few) flies and there’s no way to foresee who you’re trapped besides. Sometimes you have a talker beside you (probably scared of flying so they turn to talking to distract themselves). Sometimes you have the hardworker, who brought their whole office onboard with them. Sometimes you’re by the parents of a Fly’nCry (a crying newborn baby who, maybe, shouldn’t be flying yet). Then there’s the creeper married dude chatting it up with the flight attendants or a lady (not wife) seated next to him. Occasionally you may even be seated beside a nun, and feel overly awkward for those unreligious types. Then there are the over-frequent urinators (spoiler alert: they’re always in the middle or window seat). It’s a random casting of character. There’s a chance you may make a friend, have a civil conversation, maybe join the mile high club, y’know, whatever, no big deal. Good things can happen. Then there are flights akin to torture-by-air. And there are always the uneventful flights—those, in m opinion, are the best. J

And then, there’re the flight attendants. I have a good friend who became a flight attendant and I do work in costumer service and know a large chunk of the service industry in Tacoma, so I have some sympathy toward those who work flights. I usually don’t find myself over-chatty with them (as there are a lot of customers to tend to), but I appreciate them all the same. BUT I have had some who ignore me due to age or race or socio-economic-seating—which, even if you have your bad days, we still call that discrimination by the way—and in this instance, I will briefly illustrate my personal favorite and most hated encounters:

Coolest Flight Attendant – My friends and I were returning to Tacoma after a delightful gay old time in San Francisco (gay pride weekend). We were pretty pooped and wanted to drink and then intensely sleeeeeep. Before we even left the terminal, we heard the cries of a crying baby unleashed. This must have been a future opera singer or some shit because this baby was on the loudest and longest cry-a-thon I’d ever heard. My friend hates kids, so naturally the crying baby agitated her, but the parent with the kid was barely doing anything. We’d exchanged glances with each other, with other passengers nearby, and all we had the same WHATTHEFUCK look. Then came on my favorite flight attendant, who walked by the wailing baby and cringed as though her ears had been physically assaulted. It happened a few times, each time my friend and I chuckled. She even gave the parent some advice as to how to handle the crying machine. And when she had to do her safety demo of how to put on your seat belt and such, we erupted in laughter: she stood beside It Who Cried A Lot, attempting to focus on emergency procedures and maintaining her calm, but the tiny thing producing an unreal amount of noise was totally out-performing her, drowning out her demo. So, she just stopped, looked at all of us, blinking, sharing our WTF expression, heavily sighed, and shook her head. But she didn’t say anything, not a word, she just took a deep breath, gave what could only be a pain-filled smile, and kept shaking her head as she finished her demo. Priceless. My friend and I spoke to her later, just thanking her for feeling our shared frustration. She told us this was the end of her day and this was her flight home, so the three of us were in the same, wailing-filled boat.

Douchiest Flight Attendant, EVER – This was years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday. I was in the emergency exit row (there was my row and a row behind me). I was 21 at the time and with a fresh fly haircut (used to rock a magnificent afro, so I had turned over a “professional leaf” that year and get it cut) and even trimmed the beard—naturally so fresh and so clean-clean. Even with the clean-up, I probably still looked a little older than 21. As I’m sitting and waiting for the flight attendants to talk to us about our capability and responsibilities in the emergency exit row, I eavesdropped on what this attendant is saying to an elderly woman seated behind us. In the middle of his spiel, he stops and asks her if she can properly hear him. Offended, she says yes, she can and he goes off into the importance of if she doesn’t think she can follow along with the intricacies of his directions, then he’ll have to move her. She reassurances him (still highly offended) that she’s fine. Once he finishes, he comes to us and does his whole “Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth”-thing to us and then I notice him staring at me and he asks if I’m old enough to be seated in the emergency exit row. I kinda blank on how old I’m suppose to be, but I’ve flown in that row before for a few years, so I tell him I’m 21 and he shoots me the snootiest, most skeptical look like he wanted to ID me. After he leaves, I check the instruction book to see the minimum age requirement: 14 years old. That muthafucker. Douchiest. Attendant. EVER.

Ah, turbulence, it’s like the invisible companion on every flight. People handle it differently. Some with the slightest tremble will have flashbacks to LOST, Final Destination, or even Fight Club and envision the plane falling apart and foresee themselves plummeting to the ground. Some take Benadryl (that’s my joint!) with some liquor to avoid consciousness (not doctor recommended). Some cling onto their neighbor with dear life, even if it’s their first time meeting. Many frequent flyers just make sure they’re tightly fastened and hope that the drink on their tray doesn’t tip and short out their laptop or DVD player. The bravest of people are those who fly in SMALL planes because you feel it soooo much more and you have those life-flashing-before-your-eyes kinda moments. Anyone who does that and on a regular basis… well, you’re ballsier than I…

In-flight pastime is kinda similar to the waiting period, but you see the full fledge of resources that people bring. You aren’t equipped with outlets or an endless array of liquor or space. Time is draining and life becomes compact. People who’re previously hooked into their laptop or phone slowly pull out books, or… other electronic devices (ipods, kindles). Some manage to make friends with their neighbors. Some joyfully drug themselves to sleep (ftw!). Some work, some write, some enjoy the highly edited movies or shows on their in-flight entertainment venue. But sometimes you run outta batteries, outta juice, outta liquor, outta pages, outta conversation topics, and you find yourself just, with yourself, waiting. Or napping. But there’s a LOT of waiting… worse than Godot…

And then we reach journey’s end, when electronics go away, tray tables go up and seats must return to their upright position. I find it almost soothing, though many get anxious as we descend and the plane gets rattley and people want to scream “AAHHHH!!!! Fear of impending doom!” because of the dropping sensation. J I mean, the planes does a lot of turning, circling, and noticing that the small toy-like cities are getting bigger, more detailed, noticing ant-sized lights zipping back and forth and the reality that you’re almost there kicks in (unless you are catching a connecting flight). But you start to ponder important queries like “Am I gonna swap digits with the cute person I sat next to?” or “Wonder if my ride’s gonna be on time?” or “Did the airport lose my luggage again for the 3^rd time this year?” or “I wonder if I should’ve packed a jacket?” and then suddenly—VROOOOM!!! The screeching wheels hit the ground, the plane bounces slightly but (hopefully) comes to a soul-chilling stop. You’ve landed! No explosion! Hurray! Cue: reach for your cell phone.

For those with baggage (still physical, not emotional) hitting up the carousel at the end is akin to the closing credit sequence of this, your epic journey in flying. You see people’s luggage, their families, and loved ones, or those just willing enough to pay for parking, and for the most part, everyone is relieved. Is it because of the people their meeting and the places they’re going? Maybe!! OR it’s about the fact that the fuckin’ flight is fiiiiinally over (unless you’re catching a connecting flight, or if you’re baggage is missing, or if your ride forgot you, or--)

I mean, nope! It’s done. You’re done. Journey’s end. Or at least it is for this blogger.

If you have your own tales in in-flight entertainment and flying and douchey flight attendants, share it with us either on our blog or our twitter account at https://twitter.com/LifeInTransitTJ or send us an email at LifeInTransitTJ@gmail.com and we may post your message / picture!!

Take to the Skies – Part 1

by the Wanz

Today we take to the skies by taking a look at the aerial life in transit. Yes, yes, the mighty airplane. J (Don’t have a helicopter… not yet anyways.) This will be exploring the general experience of the whole airplane process, not a specific tale (expect that in December when I retell last year’s hellish holiday commute). Now, I know there are those who have never flown and for those of you have avoided such… well, congrats! You probably have a few extra years on ya because getting to your flight and the actual flight itself are both fucking STRESSFUL!!! It’s not just bing-bang-boom and you get from point A to point B, it’s a muthafucking journey (like with Frodo and the one ring, if he had decided against walking).

And yes, we’re going to go through the whole airplane experience! From waking up to picking up your baggage after you’ve landed. And thus, this is a two-part blog. Part One – The Fright Before the Flight:

It begins at home, even before leave one must start with… packing! It’s kinda like homework—no one likes to do it (or if you do, society deems you strange/unusual), people will procrastinate until the last minute to do it, and when you rush it, you’ll inevitably forget something. (Also getting someone else to do it for you doesn’t always work out.) But it is a necessary process. For some, they over-pack, others under-pack, and some just wing it and others just don’t pack at all. In a way, it’s almost a window into our organizational soul—it shows us what we think we need, what we’re willing to drag along with, or willing to leave. (Or, again, willing to over-pack and have someone else carry it for said person.)

Once you’re all packed, getting to the airport is the next hellish task at hand. Most airports aren’t right next to major cities, so it can be a journey. Some cities, like SF, have great and very direct public transportation from the main areas of the Bay to their airports (SFO & OAK). If only every city had a BART system like the Bay does. Tacoma/Seattle has a bus that’ll take you directly to the airport—BUT getting to that bus is a pain in the ass, almost not worth the transit journey in and of itself. Then there are the shuttles—overpriced + crowded. Additionally you are with others who are crammed in next to you or (if you’re the first picked up) you have to go alllll the way out to their homes and wait for them to drag their luggage and themselves to the shuttle. Essentially, it transforms a not-too-long of a trip into a 2 hr ordeal. OR, there are your friends, maybe one who owes you a favor (or one who you’ll soon be in debt to). Best way to get their assistance: ask for a ride. Second best way: post on facebook that you need a ride. Third: talk to someone who is really empathetic (w/ a car) about how shitty it’ll be to bus, shuttle, walk, or whatever to the airport, until he or she feels so bad that they have to give you a ride. (Yahtzee!)

Upon actually arriving to your airport, thanking whatever mode of transportation you took, you’ll find yourself in the first of many lines. (If Lord of the Rings can be summarized as a movie that involved too much walking, Lord of the Airport would be a movie about being trapped in one too many lines.) Checking in is different for everybody, as there are just numerous factors that play into it. Factors: Airlines (some don’t have ridiculously long lines, so it makes it go faster), Ticket Class (obviously the 1^st class are classier and have shorter lines), Baggage (physical, not emotional), Electronic Check-In Systems (man versus machine), Arrival Times (i.e. if you can just stroll up before your flight to check in or if you have to arrive no later than 45 minutes before your flight or else they boot ya off the plane), and of course the speed/friendliness of the person working the front counter (paranethical comments not included).Every factor matters and expedites (or halts) this process. It’s either a five-minute dealio or a half hour line from hell. Who knows. J

Next line: Security Check Point!! These vary too, usually depending more on the timing of it (i.e.: when during the day, day of the week, and season you’re traveling). But the zig-zag-iness of these things are worse than lines at a waterslide park during a hot California summer day (and way less enjoyable). You’ll see people downing drinks that they can’t bring aboard and shuffle through their bags debating with themselves about if their gigantic toenail clippers will make it through security. Once their IDs and Boarding Passes are verified, the next challenge awaits: the x-ray and metal detector/full body scans. These moments are always a little funny. People fall into 1 of 2 categories – eager & prepped to get through the checkpoint or overly embracing their ability to dilly-dally. People can’t help but be pros on one or the other. For the first time or infrequent flyers, I get it, you don’t know what you’re doing. But once you’ve flown once and if it hasn’t been like…. 10 years since your last flight or whatever, you should get it the whole shoes, jacket, laptop/electronics, metal junk, liquids, etc. ordeal. It’s kinda like taking a test. And the metal detector is the grading system. This is a pass-fail kinda test too. It’s that moment of truth when you walk through the metal detector that you’re like “Did I fuck up?” just like getting a pop quiz back after only doing some of the reading. But if you pass, metal free, the security guard gives you that nod of “I’m glad you’re not making me do extra work.” (I even got a joke out of one… only once, but it was still proof that they are people and not robots built by TSA.) For those doing the full body scan, it’s more like taking the GRE, but also feeling completely exposed (so taking the GRE while you’re naked)! And if you fail either, slightly humiliation (and the loss of some smuggled materials) will occur before prepping for your next line.

Post-security checkpoint is very open-ended and it really depends on what type of flyer you are (so this section may apply to you or give you insight into others). This part is the infamous waiting stage. (Spoiler alert: Godot is not featured.) Some will be waiting at the airport for hours (due to early drop-offs or flight delays) while others have 0 minutes of waiting and will literally sprint in a mad dash starting at security to their gate while praying that they get onboard. What one chooses to do during their limbo-time usually satisfies their inner boredom-monster. 1. Wifi – some airports have it for free, some force you to download software and pay for it, but everyone looks a little facebook or twitter time or even working or even illegally watching movies on line. Some even blog. J 2. Loved ones phone calls – there’s always that person who is so loud that you hear (not overhear, because it’s that loud) their conversation with their significant other, their parent(s), sibling(s), boss, mistress(es), whoever. 3. Book/magazine – simple joys, simple pleasures. 4. Movies/TV Shows – Hopefully while your laptop or dvd player is plugged in (so you don’t waste all your juice in the airport and not on the plane), shows or movies will ideally help you mindlessly zone out on a screen while time joyously flies by (and not their flight flying by). 5. The drinkers – My favorite pass-time! Where there’s a bar, there’s a drinker, especially in the airport. 6. The napper – that overly considerate person willing enough ot take up three or more seats to satisfy their weary urges. 7. Smokers – self-explanatory. 8. And the watehers (i.e.: me) – because there’s always some random shit that you’ll inevitably see people doing in their life in pre-in-flight transit. J

Look for “Take for the Skies – Part 2: In-Flight Entertainment” coming later this week! If you have your own tales of pre-boarding chaos, share it with us either on our blog or our twitter account at https://twitter.com/LifeInTransitTJ or send us an email at LifeInTransitTJ@gmail.com and we may post your message / picture!!

The Good, The Bad, and the Taxi Cab

by the Wanz

            FIRSTLY huuuuuge apology for not… y’know, writing as much as we have been used to this week. Life In Transit will be returning to the world of the living sooner rather than later. Just a mini apology of neglect – no more neglection.

            So today we are expanding the realm of public transit. Because, well, the bus is the biggie picture that one may have when thinking transit, but realize that there’s a whole array of different ways to travel—bus, train, taxi, etc. And let’s be honest, we’ve all taken taxicabs before—and they’re usually pretty… well, intense. Not necessarily a bad, or a good, but they’re rarely boring. (Or soothing.) In my own opinion, cabs are never a gray area, it’s pretty black or white with quality.

            How people rate their experience in cabs is pretty different too (for some it is merely the cost of the experience, sometimes people want to talk to someone, and other cases people want to enjoy themselves in a “Taxi Cabs Confessions” kinda a moment). For myself, it usually has to do with my own experience in the ride, how fast I get somewhere, how the drive acts, etc. because I’ve been in cabs for many a reasons—going to the airport, being late for work, coming home late from bar-time—so my experience varies. (Plus having cabbed around in Tacoma, Seattle, SF, and DC, pricing for cabs vaaaries, so my enjoyment is what matters the most.)

            This piece is a two-for-one (for the win!) about my best and worst experience in a cab. So, let’s start with the good!

Favorite Cab Experience

            Once upon a time I visited a little city full of gays, diversity, and fog called “San Francisco.” On this particular evening, I was dashing between friends who were having a houseparty and friends who were out at a club in the Mission. Due to the urgency of this trip, my friend Melissa and I dashed up and down the block until we waved down a cab.

            I can’t even BEGIN to explain the magical find that this cab was. Not gonna lie, we’re not hard to please. We found a “party cab” where it literally feels as though you’re having an amazingly epic dance-party, while sitting and being transported to your destination. I’m talking flashing lights, bumping music, just the right kinda atmosphere.

A of all: genius; B of all: fun; C of all: it was the only cab ride where I was like “Wait… it’s over… can’t we just go around the block just one more time…!!” My illustration of this is a blurry picture of m friend from that night—

Priceless.

Worst Cab Experience… EVER!!

            In Tacoma, a friend and I were venturing from downtown t-town to return to the north end bars. She called a cab service that she uses frequently and we hopped in. The first bad sign was he didn’t know where he was going, which is weird because the bar we were headed to is pretty centrally located. My friend and I exchange looks, shrugged it off, and directed him.

            Instead of taking the usual main streets, this fellow is taking a bunch of weird backroads. And as he’s doing so, he’s also driving a little swervey-like, and talking about his past DUIs!!!! My friend and I aren’t really engaging in conversation with him, he was just prattling on about it (while swerving, on backroads).

            Yep, we had a drunk cab driver. Let me tell you, it’s bad for everyone involved. The whole point of the cab is that we were trying to avoid drunk driving, dying, and all the like. And it took forever because he took another backstreet which… didn’t take us the wrong direction completely, but we were definitely veering southwest instead of northwest (where the bar was). After driving through an intersection or two w/ stop signs, and exchanging a billion and one glances with my friend, we arrive to the bar. We quickly pay, with a little tip, and he just dashes away.

            My friend and I… bewildered and thankful we didn’t die. Worst. Ride. EVER!!

            But again, each experience is different for everyone. Your worst cab experience may out-do mine, and your best may do the same. Share your experience in-cabbing-transit either on our blog or our twitter account at https://twitter.com/LifeInTransitTJ or send us an email at LifeInTransitTJ@gmail.com and we may post your message / picture!!

A Total Hip Trip!

By the Wanz

            It wasn’t until I arrived at my Seattle-bound busstop that I recalled that today (08/19) was Seattle’s Hempfest. I deduced this upon seeing an influx of Friday morning commuters, most of whom were younger, a lot more hippie-er or hipster…er, and saw through eyes way more glazed over than our average transitter.

            I groaned. Though I’m not one to venture to the fest of the hemp, I’m (relatively) fresh out of college and from San Francisco, so I’m all for love (and drug?) embracing celebrations. Ultimately, this was just my usual naptime (that which I desired the most that morning after a fun – but late – night out) and I sighed, knowing it would be skipped today. Aside from the crowd, I hoped my quote-of-the-day notebook would be brimming with material and quotes galore!! (Spoiler alert: this is the only thing produced from m Hempfest ride.)

            As the bus pulled up and I dashed to stand at the front of the line, I glanced back at those behind me and saw more unusual transitters from the buswindows—the crowd consisted of flower-power children, teenage hipsters, twenty-something year old hippies, way older hippies, odors, gigantic backpacks, thick blankets, etc. It was, by far, one of the weirder groupings of people in all of my transit history. As our bus left Tacoma, this was the populous that journeyed with me north:

·               I sat in my favorite seat beside Rev. Old Dude (a regular commuter with me), who hid behind books and newspaper to escape the youngsters and the strange black guy (me) beside him;

·               Standing in the aisle was a cadre of teenage hipsters (one of whom had a hate that said FUCK on the underside of his cap’s brim, all of them wearing tight pants, and a bizarre color pallet akin to color combos worn during the original era of Saved b the Bell);

·               Two heavily tatted, somewhat grungy guys, rocking the hooded, patchy sweatshirt combo with a patch of “SKULL LICE” on the side (is it a band? a funny saying? a store? or maybe even a way of life…), and gigantic backpacking packs;

·               Beside those two was a twenty-something year old hippie-esque chick heading into Seattle for work (a fellow transitter aka’d as Hippie Chick);

·               Two foul mouthed street slang kids (teens I’d guess) sat / kicked the seat behind me;

·               Three middle age women from out of town traveling up to Seattle;

·               And, of course, me (the Wanz) the young guy with the fancy shirt and a tie on that day. (In their eyes, I was probably “cooperate” or “the man” even though I work at a non-profit.)

Now I have worked in the downtown financial district of San Francisco, Tacoma, and Seattle so I’m rather use to the regular judgmenty-tension between the younger, rebellious generation against the pretentious, better-than-though, don’t talk to me while I’m on the bus adults who view the kids as smelly, slackers with unrealistic expectations. I’m not sure if it was just the setting of the bus, the fact that I was coming into work a little later in the day, the fact that there were only a few of us “corporate types,” or maybe it was the slight smell of weed (coming from most or all of the Hempfest travelers) that calmed the population. Free love and hippie-ness reigned supreme over our ride!

Hippie Chick was in love with the kids’ outfits and reasons for going to Hempfest (recalling her own teenage Hempfest days); the cadre of teens chatted up a storm with Hippie Chick and the middle age women, who had no freaking clue what Hempfest was—it was pretty cool to see these teens (who had gave up their seats for these ladies) and then dropped some knowledge bombs about Hempfest; there was obviously me and Rev. Old Dude who said nothing, though I quietly listened and jotted down some notes; the Hippie Chick also got the backstory of the backpacking duo (in town from Portland, excited about the music scene in Seattle); and the middle age ladies learned about the Good Will store that Hippie Chick got her shoes at. All in all… a strange level of kindness.

I quietly observed and didn’t interact (again, wanz was tired). Unfortunately (sorry Leighann!) there was very little recorded. This was not due to laziness, this was truly due to the fact that TEENS were around me and teenagers can sometimes say funny, quote-worthy things but most of what they say are:

1)            Quotes from movies/shows/songs or actual funny people

2)            Long-winded inside jokes that don’t even make sense

3)            Simply not ver funny.

In fact the only quotes I retrieved were these:

“Stonerkid (as a bus full of little kids drives b): These look kids look like dammit!”

“Kid1: I just love you so much I’m going to point out your faults. Kid2: Yeah, well, I don’t like you pants so… shut up.”

Yay Hempfest busride!! If you had a funny experience or even picture on the bus during Hempfest, tweet us at file:///LifeInTransitTJ or send us an email at LifeInTransitTJ@gmail.com and we may post your message / picture on our twitter or blog!! 

The Art of Catching the Bus On Time...ish

by the Wanz

Firstly, this isn’t rocket science; this is merely a grouping of suggestions/advice for how you can actually get places in a timely/effective manner via the bus. That whole point of this is to develop a concept of what I call “accountability.” (I totally invented that to btw.) Countless times have I heard people bickering or bitching at bus stops or on a late bus, loudly grumbling, “Well if my bus hadn’t come 15 minutes late, I would be on time!”

I call bullshit! J You clearly are willing to allow your life to be left in the hands of someone else who drives you around. It’s not like the busdrivers are you personal chauffeurs—it’s public transportation people! Things like traffic, mechanical issues, fights, accidents, wheelchair / stroller lifts, etc. occur on the bus, car, train, on pretty much a day-to-day basis. So, if you’re willing to travel by bus, you have to accept these facts, thus place the blame elsewhere and not on the bus and/or the driver. Boom! Accountability.

[The only exception would be if you were waiting at the very first stop and you saw the bus driver just kickin’ it or eating or talking on his cell—doing something other than driving the bus—when it should be taking off. Dillydallying, if you well. Even then, you have placed yourself in that position. Gotta deal.]

In all honesty, the person you really need to be mad at is yourself for not getting your ass to the bus on time. There, I said it: it’s your fault. But, let’s put your complaints away and remedy this! Read on for my general timely transit suggestions.

1)    What does “on time” look like to you? – No, this is a serious question. Before you even ponder about the bus, your bus route, your general travel time, etc. take a deep breath, close your eyes, visualize your destination and think “When do I really need to be there?” Once you have decided that, subtract 10-15 minutes, and that’s when you should want to be there. Because let’s be honest, be it on the bus or by car and you’re a commuter, you really have no clue when you’ll get somewhere due to traffic, accidents, and general dumbasses out there on the road.

2)    Map out your route – It’s important to have this all sorted out the night before, so you know where to go and how to get there. Don’t be that guy/gal looking around being like “is this my busstop is?” That’s unnecessary.

a.     If you have a connecting bus route, make sure you map it out, figure out how long it is between your bus and the connecting bus, and that you have more than enough time between buses to appropriately catch it and have emergency back-up routes just in case.

3)    Try catching on bus early – If you’re legitally wanting to be somewhere on-time (especially by bus), be early. Figure out which bus you should catch (based upon suggestion 4) and try to catch the one before. It eases on the stress. Otherwise, continue to read on for how to promptly arrive on time.

4)    Arriving to your bus stop – This is the biggie step. In the many-a-years I’ve taken the bus, I have been wronged every which way by the (bus) system. Sometimes the bus comes early, sometimes the bus is horribly late, and sometimes the bus doesn’t come at all (a real rarity, but it happens). Transit’s Law says that the arrival of the bus will always beg against you so don’t you think for a second you saunter up to your bus stop and expect it to be waiting for you. So remember the following:

a.     Have all of your shit ready the night before – Lunch, gym bag, work stuff, clothes, homework, whatever you need. Just be prepared. If you forget to prep stuff, this could easily lead to your untimely undoing!!

b.     Arrive at your busstop 10-15 minutes prior to your bus’s arrival – AND THERE IT IS!! This gives you an adequate amount of time to leave your house. Honestly, if you get there around this time, you may accidentally catch an earlier bus that’s running late and you may catch your bus if it arrives early. Now, obviously, if your bus comes late, you’re SOL but at least you anticipated arriving to work 10-15 minutes early (see 1^st recommendation).

c.     Powerwalk! This isn’t some motherf**king morning stroll – I’m not saying run, but move quickly if you want to catch your bus! Hell, I take it back, if you know you’re running late, then you run motherf**ker, run!

d.    Be kind to your busdriver, even when they’re late – This is important. For the days when the bus is über crowded / late and it’s supposed to pass you up, if you’ve developed a good relationship with your busdriver, then they may stop for you even when they aren’t supposed to. (Or even if they see you sprinting after the bus to catch it they may slow down.). However, if you’re a dick, they’ll happily skip over you, in most instances.

e.     Take the bus with someone – This is always the kicker, because if you take the bus with someone, you start to have an obligation to be there on time so you can commute with this. (Be careful with this one, cause it can easily become a double-edge sword if this friend becomes an ex-friend/hook-up/girlfriend and/or boyfriend.)

[Irrelevant Author’s Note: I’m writing this entry on my commuter bus and my laptop was almost chucked to the floor, thanks to a kind-hearted, hard-breaking busdriver… grrr… if this breaks or I accidentally get a concussion, raaaaage!!!]

Ultimately, the moral of this entry is this: be a little early for the bus. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Hell, if anything, maybe you meet a cute guy/gal at the bus, and you strike up an interesting conversation! And then bam! you have a new bus-friend, more accountability, timeliness, who knows, even a (bad) bus romance — shaboom!

If you follow all this and you still don’t get places on time, then maybe you should just buy a car. Or a helicopter so you can avoid traffic. Or move. Or make your job move. No, can’t do anything of that? Then stop complaining and catch an earlier bus! J

If you have your own tips for getting to work on time via bus, or a funny transit tale or picture, tweet us at https://twitter.com/LifeInTransitTJ or send us an email at LifeInTransitTJ@gmail.com and we may post your message / picture on our twitter or blog!! 

Top 15 People Who I Judge On the Bus

(Posted by the Wanz)

Now, there are a lot of entertaining and judgment-worthy folks out there who take the bus, the train, the plane—really anything else that publicly transports people. But I thought I would start with the top 15 people who I overly judge that take the bus with me. Now I take local buses and commuter buses (between cities), and have lived in a few commuter cities, so I have refined these into general categories! Read ‘em and weep and if you have your own judgment-worthy people who bus with you, let us know!!

1)    The Touchy, Coupley Twosome – Regardless of whatever age they are (be it teenagers, twenty-something year olds, regular adults, even OLD people), the bus is not and will never be a great place to be displaying PTA. It’s… nice that you both commute together, and yes, obviously nothing says sexy like public transportation. Oooo, bumpy roads, sudden stops, tight seating, oddly scents, and a grand audience of strangers. Sexy time.

2)    The Overly Odorous – Sorry smelly people, when you board the bus and let your smelliness expand, well, it’s not like the bus has great ventilation! Seriously though, just take a shower or something before boarding. Or something. Deodorant. Perfume. Manfume. Something. Please. End smelliness. Now.

3)    The Exs (be it Ex-Boyfriends or Girlfriends/Ex-Hook-ups/Ex-friends/Ex-cetra) – Somehow, they always find you in an inescapable situation. It’s like they GPS you into awkward, confined situations. Even if he/she doesn’t look like he/she saw you, the ex did, and the ex is just avoiding eye contact with you as well. Unless, of course, he/she goes straight to you and begins bombarding you with conversation, then it was a planned ambush (or they’re optimizing on a perfection scenario). Remember—having to take an emergency phone call is always an option.

4)    Crazy Old People – See, so I’m happy you aren’t driving (cause there’s already enough crazy people on the road, even busdrivers), but you don’t really need to sit beside me and either rattle on about dead relatives, invisible friends, vision quests, politics, or hellfires/angels. Also, a number of you are also in another category (see: the Overly Odorous).

5)    The Bus Driver Who Doesn’t Know How to Break Softly – Nothing says “awesome ride” like being lurched forward at every stop, cause the bus driver is a “sudden stopper.” Urgh. One must realize that when people are literally falling out of their seats, they are breaking too hard!

6)    Rowdy Herds of Passengers Going to an Event – First of all, there’s always a herd of these people. Be it because of sporting events, concerts, or special guest speakers, if you’re a regular commuter these “special guest star passengers” fill and retard your usual trip. It’s also unfortunate, because they don’t know the rules of the bus, they aren’t super considerate of other people, and (especially after these events) people may be obnoxious, sweaty, smelly or potentially even drunk. Yay for you not driving, but nay for becoming a pain in my ass. Rude.

7)    Those Choosing to go Deaf – Okay, I overly enjoy listening to music as well on the bus. It helps pass time. Helps me sleep. Helps with, y’know, whatever—but when one plays their music so loud I can hear full lyrics to the song, then it’s annoying. I like listening to music loudly too (like at the gym!). However, I usually take out my ear buds on the bus, check the volume on it, and make sure it isn’t disturbing people. And when the bus driver chooses not to do anything, a give you a little second hand judgment passive busdriver. (Don’t fret, spoileralert: passive aggressive busdrivers made the list.)

8)    Those who Sit in Aisle Seats Instead of Window Seats on a Crowded Bus – Unless you’re like me and are so tall that if someone reclines in their seat, you can’t sit in a certain seat, move to the window seat. Someone’s going to have to sit beside you if the bus is crowded. Move. Save us some time. The stand ‘n shuffle only slows down the whole bus ride. There ain’t no VIP seating on this ride.

9)    People who Ride the Bus for Only 1-5 Blocks – Ok, so I’m from San Francisco, and I’ve admittedly waited for a bus so I would have to climb a treacherous hill when I could have walked it for 20 minutes. Living in Tacoma, I see people who take a bus for like 4 blocks so they wouldn’t have to walk up hill—mind you, they’ve waited for the bus for like a good 20 minutes, when it takes maybe 5 minutes to walk up the hill. Really? Unless you’re old or with a baby or you’re handicapable, you should walk it. Don’t make America lazier.

10) Space Invaders – Seriously, if you are sitting in a two-person seat and someone sits next to you, move your legs and the rest of your body to your half of the seat. Just cause you were there first, doesn’t mean you get more space. Share it! Or prepare to have your legs physically moved. Other people need their space too. Again, no VIP seating here.

11) People Who Don’t Stand Up For Pregnant Women, Older People, and Handicapable Passengers – Especially if you’re in the front seats, you need to move. At the least, scoot over so there’s space for them. I have seen tons of teens sitting up front, glance up at an old hobbling man, and then resume their conversations. Move! Especially pregnant women—she’s like a person and a half! Do it, cause who knows, one day you may be in their position.

12) Creepsters – For those weirdos on the bus who’re trying to pick up people (particularly trying to hit on kids/high schoolers), stop. No one likes you. And we know what you’re doing. And if you don’t stop, we know how to call the police. J Or mace you. Or both—wouldn’t that be fun?

13) The Passive Aggressive Bus Driver – These are the busdrivers who, when there’s an issue (that hasn’t escalated to something physical occurring), just play their prerecorded messages instead of addressing the passengers specifically. I mean… really? Are you trying to avoid conflict so much that you can’t say something? You just replay your prerecorded message, until another passenger tells said disruptive passenger to stop doing whatever it is they were doing and you’re like “Ah, perfect, a job well done!” No… it’s more like “Ah, perfect, I pushed a button and someone else took care of it. A job not done.”

14) The Short Recliners – Mostly because I’m a tall person, I do not always appreciate getting my legs crushed by someone reclining in their chair. One would think airplanes were worse, but the buses to Seattle definitely could hurt a tall fellow like myself. And when a shorter person decides to recline and either can’t (cause my legs won’t allow it) or they crush my legs, forcing me to move, I can’t help but glare at them. Forever.

15) Me – Can’t hate on everyone, without being honest. I probably do pretty judge worthy things! I definitely have allergy problems (the dust-free air conditioning on the bus totally helps) and sniffle and sneeze all the time. I’m exhausted some days, so I nap on the bus (mayhaps even snore). Some days I dash for my bus and am overly sweaty. And I’m sure I’ve fallen into a few of these categories listed above before. But that only means that I judge myself—and I’m big enough to admit to that and aim to change. Those folks on the bus set in their ways though…  well, I carefreely judge you.

The dude sitting next to me who is pressed against the window (either out of fear of my sniffles, me being black, or maybe just a general fear of people) came in close to be on this list, but I wouldn’t want to single anyone out!

And if you take the bus and judge people too, send us a reply or shoot us a tweet @LifeInTransitTJ and tell us your story!