The downtown buses in the morning are NEVER the tightly packed smaller buses that we midtown riders seem to be subjected to. I watch the large, comfortable Wall Street-bound QM1As pass by. Ten minutes later, an older, nearly full tiny bus pulls up, the 6th Avenue bus, which I need to take. I can't risk waiting for the next one; it's already nearly 7:30 a.m. There are no forward-facing seats left, and the sideways seats are already getting full.
By the time the bus leaves its last stop in Queens, every single seat is taken and six people are standing in the aisle. This is not a big deal on a cross-town bus, but this is an "express" bus that takes anywhere from forty-five minutes to an hour to get to the city.
I am smooshed between a thin, Chinese, New York Times-reading man and a squishy, blonde, crossword-puzzle-solving lady. I pull out a batch of stories I have to copyedit for work. I am not going to get irritible. I've had enough of THAT lately, haven't I? I'm slightly bugged at the MTA for not retiring these crappy uncomfortable buses, but beyond that there's no one to get upset with. We are all squished in here together, and, actually, this lady's soft wide butt feels kinda nice. Like a pillow! Yeah...
I get a lot of work done, finish editing three stories, before the Midtown Tunnel. I'm thinking I deserve a cup of Starbucks coffee (haven't had enough yet this morning) and a healthy treat. I settle for some Snyder's of Hanover pumpernickel and onion pretzal sticks. The bag says it's a "Delicious Wholesome Snack," so it must be all right.
I'll stop being a bad girl in a few minutes and start doing my work. By the way, I'm still feeling the sting in my left hand, where Rad smacked me with a wooden ruler before I left the house. I was asking for it... sigh.