All Doors Are Closing

I need not remind you all I'm not a morning person. If you ever, ever forget that fact, just call me before ten in the morning. I hate to sound redundant, but it's an important reminder from time to time, and it is a rather necessary preface to this little tale.

This morning I caught the bus at pretty much the same time as I always do. I tend to be pretty much within the same range all the time. Today's bus was a tad more crowded than usual, and I wound up with a pack of grade school girls standing across from me. This was fine. But to give you an idea of just how close they were to me; one of them leaned back and went headfirst into my book, which was already leaning up by my chest.

This invasion of personal space continued for much of the ride from various people at various angles, but I can absolutely accept that as a necessary evil of public transportation. These things happen. That is not my gripe. Just, at the end of the morning's ride, I was already in a somewhat aggravated, somewhat fragile mental state. So getting off the bus was a bit of an adventure, and I'll tell you why:

Because all the damn morons who clog the bus stops of my fair city can't understand the simple concept of allowing people to exit a bus before putting their head down and trying to force their way into the doorway as if the bus will drive away and never come back.

Today, at my stop, I had to trip and stumble my way to the door, contorting myself like an Eastern European acrobat so as not to brain the people sitting down or to dry hump the poor overweight septuagenarian who no one was willing to give up a seat for. I see daylight, make my move, just happy to keep my shoes on my feet, and the next thing I know I'm almost taken out by the kneecaps by two women with jogging strollers who are trying to press their way onto my streetcar. They seemed to be hoping that, despite the fact that my large frame scarcely escaped with all limbs intact and no bodily harm inflicted on my person or that of those around me, that they might fool the keepers of the doors into somehow creating space for them so that they may magically board and ride comfortably.

This, dear readers, is not how I want to start a Wednesday. I try to be mindful of those around me, and I don't like to play the role of linebacker around my unsuspecting fellow commuters, least of all those with small children in tow, but I'll be damned if I wasn't close today. So the next time you go to board a bus, give those exiting ample time to get out of the bus (and out of your way - funny how those things coincide). It's rule number one of riding MUNI. Literally.