1. Bluetooth technology and the senior set should never be introduced to each other. I sat next to a lady this morning who was proudly donning a bluetooth headset.  It looked incongruous.  And then she got a phone call…which anyone in either the 773- or 312- area codes could hear as clear as crystal.  Apparently mystified by the fact that there was no microphone directly in front of her mouth, she shouted to ensure the sound would travel up her cheek to her little blue, blinking earpiece.  This went on for 25 minutes.  I now am very aware with what Irene is doing today and that it involves baking. Awesome.

2. Cuddling up to those two strangers is a delicate game. I love seats on a bus.  Believe me, I’m aware that I’ve got a little junk in the trunk so to speak.  I do enough squats to ensure some measure of firmness but I also eat enough croissants to keep things moderately sized back there.  But bus seats are built for a human butt that just simply does not exist.  The teeniest of people sit down and overlap.  This overlapiture (or is it overlapitude?) means that I’m forced to be physically closer to people I want to remain perfect strangers than those I’ve known for decades.  Thus, when choosing a seat, you have to play the odds.  And we’ve all been there when people see us coming and you know they’re thinking, “Aw, hell…she’s gonna sit next to me…yup…there goes my space…now this is uncomfortable.” We’re all sorry.  Get over it.

3. Babies on the bus go ’round and ’round. Holy lord, the amount of accessories required to squire a baby around town is nothing short of astonishing.  There are car seats, foldable strollers, non-folding strollers, no less than 3 bags full of baby-related needs, and the baby-squiring assistant (a secondary adult brought into the fray with the express purpose of wrangling the accessories).  While I don’t have kids and must, on a fundamental level, not understand the need for all of this, it might be legit.  What makes me scratch my head is hauling all of that onto the bus to go 4 blocks. What the hell?  It takes longer to get the stuff on there than it does to ride.  Let’s not discuss the alighting process.

4. The panic associated with letting the driver know a stop is coming up captivates me. I ride the 147 here in town which goes straight up Michigan Avenue.  The bus stops at every corner. Always.  Without fail.  So why otherwise sloth-like slugs of people pull that cord with 274 pounds of torque I will never understand.  You’re not gonna miss your stop.  Just chill.

As always, there’s more.  But why concern myself with them now?  I’ll just re-live it in about 4 hours…through the Cubs game traffic…awesome.  Can’t wait.