Every day I ride the Metro bus to work. Riding the bus gives me the opportunity to observe many different types of people and all their idiosyncrasies.
Mostly I have seen the strange and dark side of people. I once saw a guy so frustrated by the slow pace of the bus that he opened the window and climbed out. Another guy ate his lunch on the bus, which consisted of a raw onion, raw hotdogs, and the juice from a can of beans. I have listened to extremely personal phone calls spoken at a very loud volume. One woman was wearing what could only have been a flowerpot on her head. I have seen fights inside the bus, and once a knife fight on the sidewalk that resulted in an ambulance being called. I was very late getting home that night.
I have also occasionally seen the good side of people: giving up their seats for each other, helping one another on or off the bus, and intervening between strangers before a disagreement turns ugly.
But the strangest thing I witnessed was this conversation between two riders around Chrismastime last year. The coordinates you are looking for are hidden within this exchange.
Rider 1: Figgy pudding is wonderful fare, mate. You should try it sometime.
Rider 2: Twit! Only idiots eat that stuff! How can you stand it?
Rider 1: Simpleton! You are slandering my nation and countrymen.
Rider 2: Since you feel so strongly about it, let us get off at the next stop and try some. Look, there's the Coach and Crumpet Pub.
Rider 1: Onward, mate! The first serving is on me. Lead the way!
Rider 2: First I must pay our bus fare. Figgy pudding, here we come!
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