This past weekend, I cleaned up and hauled myself to downtown for a night out with the girls. I live near a major bus depot so when I go out, I don’t bother driving but instead just hop on the trusty 95 all the way to Ottawa’s downtown core. Apparently I am not the only one with this philosophy.
95 to Downtown
After missing my first bus and helplessly watching my second bus go past me, I was relieved when the 95 finally stopped and opened its doors to me. I got on the bus and surveyed the other passengers trying to find a seat. The bus was a sausage fest. I counted nine men and only one woman. Out of solidarity, I decided to sit next to the round, African American woman in the middle of the bus. Big mistake. She must have had some gas inducing blend of curry and Mexican food because she was silently stink-bombing the entire bus. I cursed the fact that I needed to inhale to survive as her mushroom cloud of stench put my gag reflex to the test. I tried to breath through my mouth, but tasting it didn’t really improve the situation. I contemplated moving, but I didn’t want to seem racist. The windows were closed, transforming the bus into a gas chamber.
In an effort to refocus my attention, I surveyed my fellow passengers. Three suburban skater kids in the back, a man who could be attractive if he took a shower, four foreigners, and a flamboyant fat boy sitting across from me. I watched the Perez-like character in front of me gyrate to the Pussycat Dolls all the way until we reached downtown. Then I burst out of the bus and into fresh air.
95 to Baseline
Coming back late from downtown on a Saturday night guarantees you great people watching. Right after I settled into my seat, the doors reopened to let the drunken masses pour into the bus. The driver closed the doors and had literally driven 1.34m when a girl screamed for him to stop. The bus came to a screeching halt causing the already tipsy crowd to go flying. The girl rushed out the back door and reappeared minutes later holding her flip flop. Apparently she had forgotten that she had put it in the gutter for safe keeping. The ride home was full of glassy eyed boys hitting on wobbly blonds and girls attempting to keep all their bits covered as the bus swerved around curves.
Quote of the night:
95 to Downtown
After missing my first bus and helplessly watching my second bus go past me, I was relieved when the 95 finally stopped and opened its doors to me. I got on the bus and surveyed the other passengers trying to find a seat. The bus was a sausage fest. I counted nine men and only one woman. Out of solidarity, I decided to sit next to the round, African American woman in the middle of the bus. Big mistake. She must have had some gas inducing blend of curry and Mexican food because she was silently stink-bombing the entire bus. I cursed the fact that I needed to inhale to survive as her mushroom cloud of stench put my gag reflex to the test. I tried to breath through my mouth, but tasting it didn’t really improve the situation. I contemplated moving, but I didn’t want to seem racist. The windows were closed, transforming the bus into a gas chamber.
In an effort to refocus my attention, I surveyed my fellow passengers. Three suburban skater kids in the back, a man who could be attractive if he took a shower, four foreigners, and a flamboyant fat boy sitting across from me. I watched the Perez-like character in front of me gyrate to the Pussycat Dolls all the way until we reached downtown. Then I burst out of the bus and into fresh air.
95 to Baseline
Coming back late from downtown on a Saturday night guarantees you great people watching. Right after I settled into my seat, the doors reopened to let the drunken masses pour into the bus. The driver closed the doors and had literally driven 1.34m when a girl screamed for him to stop. The bus came to a screeching halt causing the already tipsy crowd to go flying. The girl rushed out the back door and reappeared minutes later holding her flip flop. Apparently she had forgotten that she had put it in the gutter for safe keeping. The ride home was full of glassy eyed boys hitting on wobbly blonds and girls attempting to keep all their bits covered as the bus swerved around curves.
Quote of the night:
“I have to go to Vegas, play only black jack and come back with no less than 3 STDs”
- Frat boy describing how the Hangover inspired him to do great things
- Frat boy describing how the Hangover inspired him to do great things
Some very funny stuff here! Awesome blog.
ReplyDeleteGlad to have you on the TalentEgg team.
Keep up the great work!
Dan, TalentEgg
Thanks so much Dan!
ReplyDelete