Standing outside in frigid temperatures and violent wind at six-something-in-the-freaking-morning breeds some type of camaraderie among bus-goers. Everyone huddles together behind the covered bench area to shield themselves from the wind. Common complaints are passed around about how the bus is always 10-15 minutes late on the worst days and some even venture to get-to-know-you small talk: "Which side of the railroad tracks are you from?" (I'm from the west side, yo).
And then the bus finally comes and it's every man for himself and I get stuck sitting next to Mr. Boogers who literally has snot dripping from his nose. I wanted to puke just looking at him. I mean, it's like having plumber's crack: how could you NOT know?!
Behind me? Well, behind me is Mr. Zzzz's who not only snores the whole 90 minute commute (which normally is 40 minutes, thank you very much crappy weather), but periodically kicks the back of my seat.
So excuse me if I show up to work 45 minutes late sans mascara and sporting a terrible wind-blown 'do. Next time I might just throw caution to the violent wind and drive myself. I may not get my nap, but it seems far better than the alternative some days.