How To: Ride the MetroBus

One of the core elements of true fauxdulthood is getting a job. And not just landing the job, but keeping it. Which means, uh, you actually have to show up. On time. Every day. Five days a week. 

In my last post I mentioned I don't have a car anymore (moment of silence for El Jeepo...), so I am now a trusty user of the Washington, DC public transportation system, better known as WMATA or simply "metro." There are two ways to get around here: the metro (i.e. the train, or "the subway" for you NYC'ers) and/or the MetroBus (i.e. the...uh...bus). I usually find myself taking the metro because I know all the routes and it's much quicker. Don't worry though, I don't want the MetroBus to feel left out, so I typically ride the bus to and from work.

The bus does have its perks. For one, it's cheaper. $1.25 per ride. Flat rate. No heightened prices during rush hour like the metro. The S2 and S4 bus routes also happen to have a stop right outside of my apartment building and go all the way to Silver Spring where I work. The bus actually drops me off right in front of my office building, which allows for the ultimate in laziness (i.e. win). 

The bus can be kind of crappy too, though. I wish someone had told me the unspoken rules of bus ridership here--it would've really decreased my learning curve. There are particular things you do--and sure as heck don't want to do--to have a pleasant bus riding experience. To explain, here's a handy dandy how-to guide for riding the DC MetroBus.

How to Ride the Bus in DC:

Step 1: Miss your bus. An appropriate MetroBus ride cannot properly begin without walking toward your bus stop of choice, see the bus you want to catch, and then watch it slowly drive away as you run up to it. You will feel like there are imaginary elves sitting in the back of the bus who laugh and point at you from the window as you stand there, watching it ride away, looking defeated.This will happen to you 2 to 3 times a week, so get used to it. Remember to look mad/pissed/annoyed/any city-like expression and curse “damn it” under your breath so everyone around you knows “you just missed your freakin’ bus!” (Note:  No one will care.)

Step 2: Wait for the next bus. Piddle around on your phone, look at the time on your clock every five seconds while thinking how late you’re going to be. Why don't people update their Facebook statuses more often to provide you with idle entertainment? First world problems, I say. Count the number of runners out at 8:15 a.m. Wow, that old man's shorts shouldn't be that short. Ew.

Step 3: Get on the bus. Finally, your bus has arrived! And you only had to wait eight extra minutes—score. Dutifully let the lady with two kids and a stroller step on the bus first. Smack your SmarTrip fare card against the card reader as you get on and survey the scene for available seats. None open in the front, naturally, except aisle seats (but who wants them? No one.) Move to the back elevated level. Seating choices: sit next to the homeless-looking man who smells like your garbage disposal, sit across from a creepy gel-haired 30-something who is already undressing you with his eyes, or retreat to the very back corner seat with the motor vibrating against your back. Motor it is.

Step 4: Plop down and avoid all eye contact with your surrounding riders. Locking eyes with someone on the bus is equivalent to getting on the bus naked. It's just weird, and you don't do it (I hope). Creepy 30-something winks at you and licks his lips. Vomit slightly in your mouth. Give him disgusted look and avoid eye contact with him by being intensely engrossed in your iPod playlist selections.

Side note: If you don't have your iPod on the bus, you might as well be a nobody. Public transportation is like a freakin' Apple commercial. I really do think Apple hires middle schoolers to come and glue ear buds insides the ears of DC residentss at night while they sleep so they will never be able to take them out.

Step 5: Move your purse onto your lap. The bus is starting to get crowded and you don't want to be that person. You know, the person who takes up two stinkin' seats because they let their purse/backpack/duffel bag take up a whole seat next to them. These people are part of the No-Regard-for-Other-People's-Space Club. And you don't wanna be a member. 

Step 6: Wonder why none of the guys give up their seats for the elderly 70-something woman who is having to stand up and hold on to the pole while clenching her walker because all the seats are taken. Give up your seat to her and look around at your fellow riders in secret disgust (especially "that guy," the one who miraculously closes his eyes and pretends to nap when an elderly person or pregnant woman gets on the bus and obviously needs his seat).

Step 7: Listen to people’s conversations. Don't even pretend to be offended by this step, because we all do it, and you know it. Of course, you still want to look completely busy/preoccupied and you DEFINITELY don't make any eye contact. I may be looking at my phone, but I am most definitely enjoying the play-by-play of  your dramatic break-up with your boyfriend this weekend. 

Step 8: Pull the yellow “stop” rope. Yep, your stop is next. The yellow rope is strung around the top of both sides of the bus. Since you're sitting in the aisle seat, you'll have to awkwardly raise your arm across your neighbor’s face to pull the rope. ("Oh, sorry, did my elbow just graze your nostril?") Or better yet, if you’re in the window seat you'll have to do the the obligatory gathering of your belongings to signal to your neighbor to stand up and let you scoot out. I’ve become quite good at this, so I don’t even have to say anything like I used to. It’s amazing how much can be insinuated by the single lift of my purse strap in this city.

Step 9: Exit the bus by squeezing through the crowd of people…so many people…why does everyone stand near the door...and then, yes, you’re free! Fresh air! Pavement! People minding their own business! No more creepers licking their lips! No more sound of the humming motor! Your favorite song comes up on your iPod shuffle list in the midst of all your post-bus-ride glory. 

Step 10: Feel super baller as you walk toward your apartment building. You can hear the bus behind you, starting to come toward you to continue on its merry way. Thank God you're off that guzzling tank, you think to yourself. You're smiling, letting the breeze hit your face and turn up that favorite song of yours. All this happens right before the bus drives by, speeds through a water puddle, and drenches you and your new H&M dress from head to toe. Bus: 1. You: 0.