More public transportation stories. Because I am that guy. Or at least the last week or so has seen me be that guy. Not the drunk guy. Or the guy who goes and sits on the floor. But that guy. The guy that everyone looks at with a mix of pity and amusement.
I was dead tired a few days ago. Done fer if you will. And on the way home I stuck my iPod in and leaned my head against the window. Because I got a coveted window seat. And fought to keep my eyes open. Because I absolutely hate sleeping in any sort of public place. Even on planes. Mostly because, it turns out, I make a lot of noise while sleeping. Talking, grunting, yelling, mumbling, hell I might even yodel. So I’m a bit self-conscious about it. And try to avoid putting myself in a situation where I start yodeling in my sleep while bemused passersby watch on.
Which is why I fought so hard to stay awake. To no avail. One stop before getting off my eyes closed. My head began to tilt forward. And then I jerked it up, grunting in the process. Awesome. The guy across from me stifled a laugh while staring right at me. I stared back with a look of fatigue and confusion on my face. And then got up to walk towards the door. Turns out I was wrong. In my sleepy gruntyness I had managed to make it all the way to my stop and grunt myself awake just when I needed.
A few days later I found myself on a bus. With a lot of bags. Well only three. But they were bulky. And I have somewhat broad shoulders for the skinny little bus aisles. So as I fought the crowds to the back of the bus, I probably left bag shaped bruises on everyone I passed. So it goes. I found two empty seats next to each other, one for me and one for my mass of baggage. Because, while I hate it when people take an extra seat with their purse, I think I earned an extra seat with three bags. But as I sat down, I became that guy. Because I banged my bag against the guy sitting across the aisle. At which point I hit my head squarely on the overhang above my seat. Luckily, I have a hard head. Literally and figuratively, so I sat down with no ill effects. And I entertained the two fourteen year old girls behind me who started snickering at me.
It’s not easy sometimes. Next time I’m driving.
Welcome to Sweden.