I sank deep into my bus seat for the ride home. It had been a long day and I wanted nothing more than to drift into the pseudo sleep one can only get in a vehicle.
The seat wasn't comfy, but if I pressed my head against the window, dug my arm into the seat and dislocated my hip, some sort of relaxing position could be achieved.
I was in the midst of my comfort battle when a young woman occupied the seat next to me. She waved at me so spastically her tightly curled blond hair bounced into the face of the guy sitting behind us. She was like an adult Shirley Temple who had wasted away all her money on Adderall-laced animal crackers and now had to ride the bus. I tried to feign sleep as quickly as possible.
It's awful cold out,"" she said. Her high pitched, almost childish voice pierced my tired mind. Okay, fine I thought. I don't mind bus chatter every once in a while. I rousted myself from my sleeping position and mumbled, ""Yeah.""
""You know where it's not cold?"" She asked. ""Australia. That's where my boyfriend is. I wish he was here right now. I would totally make out with him.""
I gave her a fake smile as all my hopes of a pleasant ride home crumbled.
Clearly this lady had no understanding of bus etiquette. Superficial conversation is permitted, but when talk begins delving beyond weather, sports or what you would do if it turned out there was a bomb strapped to the bus ""Speed"" style and you are without Keanu Reeves for guidance, the conversation has gone to far.
""Yeah, we have been dating for four months and he is supposed to come back for Christmas and I think he is going to propose, but he lost his job in Australia so he can't really afford to come back but he'd better because I am so horny I can barely stand it.""
I was just as overwhelmed then as you are now. No sentence breaks, not even a pause for thought - clearly. Just a long stream of information I have tried to purge from my brain, but as have yet been unsuccessful.
She went on to share her boyfriend's sex position preference, his favorite color of underwear on her - ""pink is good but none is better"" - and many deep secrets that I cannot type here. Not that I don't want to share, but because of the lasting trauma of the situation, every time I try, I end up sobbing, rocking in the fetal position whispering, ""Umbrellas... how do you even DO that with an umbrella?!""
In an effort to get her off the topic of her sex-capades, I asked why her boyfriend had lost his job. Turns out he had flown down to work for a friend's construction company. On his third night there, her boyfriend commented on his boss's Facebook profile picture, calling him a ""stupid jerk face.""
The next week her boyfriend was fired, but sadder still was the fact that he is a 27-year-old man who still calls people ""stupid jerk faces.""
So now, because of his potty mouth, he had been jobless in Australia for two months and couldn't afford to be back for Christmas. When I asked why she didn't fly down there, she replied she was afraid because Australia is a prison colony.
I stared at her. She meant was right? Australia was a prison colony. But no, she went on to explain how England controlled Australia and sent all of its prisoners there. She thought her boyfriend was constructing a new jail, and that by now he had probably met Princes William and Harry several times. She also wondered if Prince William whipped the prisoners, and how she wished he would whip her.
At this point I couldn't take anymore. I hopped off the bus four blocks early.
She didn't seem upset that I had left without saying goodbye. She merely waved spastically as the bus pulled away.
When I finally reached home, I collapsed onto the couch. But as my eyes fluttered shut, all I could envision was Prince William whipping my over-sharing bus partner. And that umbrella... that damn umbrella.
If you like to share your personal life with complete strangers on buses, don't sit next to Megan. She will kill you. If you want to talk about what you would do if there was a bomb strapped to the bus, e-mail her at mcorbett2@wisc.edu.
