Why I Hate Public Transit: Reason 874

My Spanish oral exam went really well today. If that last sentence was to have been spoken rather than written, an undeniably obvious level of sarcasm would have been evident. Yeah, jealous?

My professor picked a random topic from a bag, and for me it was Columbia. Basically I had to talk to her about everything and anything I knew about the aforementioned country, but unfortunately, my knowledge was, and still is, quite limited. The instructions for the test had been given in spanish, which strangely enough, is the same language we are there to learn. I decided that I really only had a few choices; bullshit the best I could, book it out of there with a quick "lo siento", or jump out of her 7th storey window. I chose option number one.

I started off by assuring her that Columbia, good ol' Columbia, was something that I knew plenty about. Did she know that the Latin Sensation Shakira was from Columbia? Was she aware that Columbia was embroiled in a dangerous and profitable drug predicament? Had she seen the movie "Blow"? I think that was when my partner interjected with a "Jonny Depp es muy guapo," coincidentally at the same point I was running out of pop culture references to talk about. I concluded it all with a comment about how my boyfriend got a Fidel Castro haircut. I know he has nothing to do with Columbia, but hey, Cuba is a spanish speaking country AND it starts with a "C". She probably thought I was on El Mushrooms.

On my routine bus ride home the hypnotizing motion of the monster vehicle began to work it's magic, and I felt my eyelids becoming heavy. The movement of cars, like nothing else, can put me to sleep with an effect only paralleled by a wild boar tranquilizer. I was half listening to my iPod, half paying attention to the dream thoughts I was mulling over in my head when I heard a booming voice.

"TIME TO GET OFF THE BUS!" it screamed.

I looked around me and I was completely alone. Slightly disoriented, still quite drowsy, I headed towards the bus doors with no real certainty of my surroundings. Was I even in the same city? Why was there no one else on the bus? Why was I on a bus?
As the clarity slowly made it's way back into my mind I realized that everyone had just left me there. Not one person tapped me on the shoulder, gave me any heads up that, hey, we're all getting off now. Nope, they just let me sleep there and await my unwritten fate. Transiters are so "I'm gonna fend for myself and let that strange girl sleep". C'mon people, where is the self decency? The altruism? DO YOU HAVE NO SHAME?

So I've devised a strategy to seek out everyone from that 99 bus and destroy them. I think the plan is to run over them with a bus so that I can turn them into people pancakes with just the slightest touch of satisfying irony.