Shandy Dandy Bus Trip

Busin’ It around town, it’s Shandy Dandy!

I have my learners permit, and a shandy dandy car, which is currently in the hands of my not so shandy dandy sister. Not that I don’t trust her, she’s just not so shandy dandy.What is Shandy Dandy?Hell if I know, but I love the ol’ 20’s slang, and I reckon that would fit right on in there with the bees knees, cat’s Pajama’s and Jake.

Onto Buses, the Shandy Dandy things that they are, the people you meet and sit next to offer a wide variety of the way society lives. I find buses very interesting, as I often let my mind wander. I look at the various people and wonder what their lives are like.

For instance, the metal head sporting a Sepultura shirt, ripped jeans and half done up Connies, who smells suspiciously of weed. He stands at the front of the bus, one hand casually holding the little leather strap that hangs so carefree from the ceiling, the other in his pocket, possibly changing the song on his I-pod, or clutching his little bag of weed. His head slowly bops, his long untamed hair framing his face and falling way past his shoulders. I wish my hair was as long as his. It would be hard to maintain though, I cannot help but imagine him standing in front of a large mirror brushing his long oiled dusky brown locks and chuckle quietly to myself, averting my gaze to the next person.
The girly-girls. The pristine ‘beauties’ of their high school or social click. They’re the ones who sit, nestled close to each other on the poorly upholstered bus seats, wearing obscene amounts of jewelry, bangles and fragrance. They’re the ones who leer at the rest of the patrons on the bus, as though they’re filth for catching public transport, yet forgetting that they are also on public transport. They bring out a top of the line phone, looks to be one of those touch screen ones, an I-phone no doubt. They start blaring out ‘Like it Like that’ by Guy Sebastian, a song I’m not fond of, I hear it everyday on the radio, at work and in the shopping centers, I really don’t need to hear it on the bus. I don’t need to hear them sing either, they aren’t bad at singing but aren’t entirely great either I turn my own Ipod up and drown out the sound with a little ol’ Shaolin Temple of Boom. I’m not the only one that shows distaste for their actions…

The girl sitting across from me, has her feet up on the seat, sporting neon green converse shoes, it’s a popular brand and I’m used to seeing everyone wearing them. Heck, on weekends I sport my own pair of converse sneakers. She has skinny legged black jeans on, and is wearing a Qscar the grouch t-shirt, it looks as though it’s vintage, but these days you can buy those shirts brand new. I think they’re called vintage look wear or something of the like. She has several piercings on her face and ears, including a labret, lips, nose and eyebrow. Her short cropped hair is multi-toned, one side which was flattened out to cover her left eye was black, the other side of her hair, which was styled into short funky spikes was a blonde colour. I suppose she would fall under the category of punk, or emo. It’s all the same to me these days.

The pink/goth/emo girl slams her finger into the little red button labled ‘stop’ and the bus slows down. She sees me looking at her and pulls a strange face, as though she was scared that I was going to jump her and tie her up in a potato sack before lugging her to my abode. I give her a meek smile and a wave, to show that I’m not some deluded abductor. She gives me another quizzical look before hurrying off the bus.

She is replaced by a rather largely set man, I want to be nice about this, but there isn’t any other way to describe him other than extremely large. His mid section spilled out over the seat, his body mass occupying a space usually built for two. In his small clammy hands he clutched a half eaten McDonalds cheeseburger, oozing with red and white, a strip of bacon half a\hanging out the bun. Now I know why they say no eating on the bus, the very image alone nauseated me, let alone the horrible smell. The stench of body odor and fast food mixed together to create a deadly concoction. I winced and turned away, in hopes to get away from this new grotesque being, yet to no avail, I could hear the slurps and munches, as I was listening to a quiet song.

I feel sorry for the businessmen sitting behind him. Clean shaven with suits and ties, they both sported briefcases and sat rigid, participating in that awkward idle chit chat that one can often find themselves in with a stranger. By now the bus was filling, and getting rather stuffy. I wanted off, but alas, my stop was still some way away.

Regardless I found myself watching helplessly, as my hand rose to touch that angry red button…

‘Ding’

My eyes widened in fear, as I just realized that I had pressed the button, it wasn’t my stop, what was I to do? Now normally one would just brush it off, and pretend that they didn’t push the button, after all, someone was bound to get off or on at the same bus stop. I did just this, I sat there, shifting my gaze out the window to watch the people pass. I refused to shift my gaze as the bus came to a stop, I heard a few murmurs around me, but thanks to the soothing sounds of Amy Lee I was unable to hear the subject of the conversations.

The bus still hadn’t moved, and it had been a good five minutes, yet me being the stubborn little thing I am refused to take a gander around me, I just assumed everything was Jake, after all I had an interview to go to, so I had to keep a calm and cool composure.

5 minutes pass

Finally, I take a look around me to find that the bus was virtually empty, and that the bus had broken down, oh what wondrous luck! The murmurs around me were of the girly girls, the fat man, and the businessmen, all wondering why I was still sitting on the bus. I shrugged it off, ignoring the pang of embarrassment I felt and so I hop, skipped and jumped off the bus. Which I think is an amazing feat since I was wearing heels.

Standing at the bus stop, awaiting the next bus.Next to me stood the metal head, the girly girl, the fat man, and the business men. On the other side stood a hippy wiccan, a bogan and a R&b hip hop artist.

Five minutes pass

ten minutes pass

The bus pulls up and I stare at myself in the reflection on the window, I am standing alone. The bus stops, and opens its doors, and we all get on the bus.

The hippy, the metal head, the girly girls, the fat guy, the businessmen, the R&B artist, the bogan and the hippy wiccan.