Bus Rides

I have taken the bus a lot. Ever since my family moved to Berlin when I was eleven, public transportation has been my main mode of conveyance. I really enjoy bus rides for a couple reasons.
1) You see more people. I've noticed that here in Utah there isn't a lot of social interaction between strangers. There just isn't a neutral area where everybody goes and sits next to each other. Except church. But that doesn't count because only certain types of people go to church. I guess in Germany strangers don't really talk to each other either, but they are at least aware of each other. You can see how normal and abnormal people interact, mainly due to the abnormal people talking to the normal ones. Usually the abnormal ones are either handicapped or missionaries. What's also cool with seeing people on buses in Berlin is that everyone rides the bus, not just poor people. I remember riding the bus to school one day and there was a homeless woman sitting on one of the seats wearing dirty clothes and had plastic bags on her feet. A woman with a pearl necklace and a fur coat came on and sat down right next to hear. It was bizarre to see them together.
2) You notice people's routines. I remember when I took the U3 subway to Oskar-Helena-Heim and took Bus 110 from there to school, I could almost recognize everyone on the way. There was the Turkish man who smelled like cigarettes selling Doner Kebaps; the British man on the bus with a handlebar mustache reading Penguin Classics; Mr. Rice, who threw rice at me once--hence his name. He was a handicapped kid who also asked me to take apart his Discman for him. I took the batteries out of it and handed it back to him.
I take the bus to work now. During the summer when my schedule was more regular, I looked forward to the morning routine. I would leave the apartment between 7:03 and 7:05 AM and walk to the bus stop. I would arrive at the stop at 7:12 and read the Police Beat and Letters to the Editor in the Daily Universe. At 7:15 the bus across the street would arrive and many people would cross the street to wait at my stop. My two favorite traveling companions were Dennis and LeRoy. They were in their 60s, mentally challenged, and both worked at DI. Every morning Dennis would say to LeRoy, "The big boy! El muchacho grande!" Granted, LeRoy was very tall. I would say he was about 6'3" and maybe 230 lbs. But I heard that phrase at 7:15 every single morning for months on end. I say it now sometimes.
At 7:17 my bus would arrive and Dennis would hold up his fingers like this and say to the bus driver, "It's Tommy, my good ole buddy!" Then Tommy the bus driver with shoulder length white hair and a mustache that when down to his jawline would either say,"Heeeeey Dennis" or "Nope, it's not Tommy today. Someone just dressed up like me." When Tommy would say the second phrase, Dennis would laugh hysterically.
Sadly, I won't be riding the bus much longer. I got a new job for next semester which is within walking distance. I'll be stocking vending machines. Sweet, I know. I'm not happy to be leaving my current job, but my boss is losing so much money with the economy the way it is. Every day he has to ask at least one person to stay home, sometimes two people, just because he can't afford to keep us all employed. He had to let someone go a few weeks ago and he said he might have to do it again, so I started searching for a new job.
On a positive note, Katie comes home today! Yay! I we go to Virginia next week!