TALES FROM THE METRO

 

HOW IT WORKS:

You, gentle reader, board a Seattle Metro bus and wait for freaky shit to happen.  Once it does, e-mail theseattlekite@gmail.com and tell us about it.  We'll pick out all the good ones and put them on the site.  Get it?  Good.

 

Disclaimer 

For purposes of authenticity, the Seattle Kite does not edit any submissions for Tales from the Metro.  While we pick and choose what to publish, all content, spelling, grammar and syntax of selected submissions remains virtually unchanged.  Personal views either expressed or implied in published submissions do not necessarily reflect the opinions or thoughts of the Kite or its staff.


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Submitted by Bandits of the Global Subconscious, 8/9:

An ephemeral tendril of our will extends to the back of every brain, including yours and all those others who ride the bus.  You are a sardine.  A piece of meat, salted and cured, crammed into a metal tin, and shipped about to titillate the appetites and fill the stomachs of the Global Hunger.  Wake up, Seattle.  Revitalize yourself and swim away.  Your questioning of the world around you should lead to action.  Otherwise, you are a sardine with a slowly rotating eye, clogged with brine, and little else.

 

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Submitted by Wes, 6/19: I'm sitting in the front seats on a standing-room-only local #2.  I'm reading an article in Foreign Affairs written by Mitt Romney, candidate for the Republican nomination for President.  The article features a full-page photograph of Romney giving a speech.

 

The woman next to me points to the photo and says, "Excuse me?  Who is that?"

 

"Mitt Romney"

 

"Wait - what's his name?"

 

"Mitt Romney.  He's running for President."

 

"Where?"

 

"The United States."

 

"Oh."  The woman turns so her back is facing me and tries to suppress a fit of laughter so intense that it shakes her entire body for 2 or 3 minutes.  Once it has passed, she returns to our conversation.

 

"Where's he live?"

 

"Massachusetts."

 

Again, the woman puts her hand over her face, turns to her right, and does her best to conceal an epidemic of giggles.  This continues until she exits the bus with two full-size pieces of luggage.

 

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Submitted by Jolie, 5/23: Full Moon on Bus #49  //  2/05/07
Well, technically Friday was the full moon and I didn't even really notice it, but I think the effects of the full moon were most evident yesterday.

Yesterday was a make-up snow day for my art school, so I hopped on the bus around noon with my painting supplies and a canvas. As I was waiting for my stop, I listened to Lee, a man with only one tooth and a strong aura of alcohol, tell me how in 1968 Neil Armstrong gave him the blueprints for the Apollo moon landing. As I got on the bus, Lee suddenly decided he needed to go with me. So though I sat on the opposite end of the bus from him, he still continued to talk to me for the rest of the trip. Then...

At my transfer point, where I catch the next bus, a guy that I see pretty often was there, but he was just a little more boisterous than usual. He's a very polite man, but I think he has Tourette's Syndrome, and yesterday that manifested itself in his DJ voice, which means he held a regular conversation with someone, and then periodically shifted his head and said something like, "Yes, folks, that was Willie Nelson with 'Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain'. A great song-- I love that song, don't you?" in a very deep voice.

That's when I started to wonder-- when is the full moon this month?

I went to class, painted for a while, packed up my stuff and schlepped it out to the bus stop. As I got on the bus, headed for downtown, a man got on behind me and began reciting nursery rhymes. Hickory, Dickory Dock... Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear... Jack and Jill... over and over again. The sun was going down, but with the cloud cover I couldn't really tell--was the moon full? But wait, there's more...

A lady got on weeping violently and as her pills scattered across the floor of the bus, I became more certain. But it wasn't until I got of the bus and began to cross the street that it was really confirmed.

As I entered the crosswalk, a very large lady on the other side of the street came my direction. She reached the middle of the crosswalk, turned and faced the oncoming cars and began singing operatic arias at full volume.

It was definitely a full moon.

 

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Submitted by Allison, 5/2 The 3 and 4 run from hoity-toity Queen Anne to every department, shelter and cardboard hut that exist downtown in the free-ride zone. It is always, always slammin' packed with several standing passengers in the morning and around 5 PM. There is a woman in a wheelchair who gets picked up at one stop and literally rides the bus one block down to the next stop and then gets off. Which, ya know, whatever - it must be tiring to wheel yourself around. But she does it every single morning. Not to mention that the time it takes to get people bumped from the wheelchair seats, lower the ramp, lift her up and strap her in - would be more than enough time to roll down the block.
 

Wait - it gets better:
She also has a severe anger problem. She gets really, really mad when the bus drivers or anyone touches her wheelchair. Sooo mad that she curses at them and berates them long after the supposed assault. My favorite episode was when she thought someone touched it and blamed a guy standing behind her. He denied it and she spent the entire block ride screaming "Fuck Your FACE!!!" "FUCK YOUR FACE"! Over and over again.
 

She was still saying it when she got off and rolled along to wherever she goes. Sometimes, I think she just rolls back down the block to do it all again...


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Submitted by Alexandra, 4/12 Last summer I was taking the 194 home after a pretty exhausting day of work.  Usually at the end of the day the bus is buzzing with overeager tourists wondering where the Space Needle is and whether or not anyone knows where Such-n-Such Hotel is (no, I don't, stop asking).  I had on my headphones as we cruised through SoDo to downtown when I started hearing raised voices from the back of the bus.  Thinking it was kids goofing off I ignored it until they reached a level that cut through my blasting music.  I looked back to see two teenage girls arguing with two grown men.  I have no clue what got them cursing up a storm at each other. 

"Fuck you!"

"Mother fucker! I'll kick your ass!"

You get the idea.  Well, all the formerly-giddy tourists were silent and the regular commuters stared with hate in their eyes.  Suddenly one of the girls grabbed her Hello Kitty backpack and pulled a hammer out of it.  The bald one of the men yelled at her, "What are you going to do with that, bitch?!"  Well, fuck, that girl wound up and slammed him in the head with it!

 

One man cursing in pain, his buddy ran to the front of the bus and got the bus driver to stop and call the cops.  Then the spectacular bus driver opened all the doors of the bus and the two girls grabbed their Hello Kitty backpack and booked it.

 

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Submitted by Rudy, 4/5 I take the seventy-series busses through the U-District ten or so times a week.  The opportunities for observing weird, depressing, and/or unusual activity are numerous.

Folks who bus down the Ave may have come across a man around fifty, often disheveled and bearing what I consider a pretty close resemblance to Burt Young who has played Rocky's brother-in-law Paulie in all the Rocky flicks.  Anyhow, this guy has some serious issues which typically manifest themselves as an intense interest in female busriders.  He picks a victim, then begins to closely question her.  If she shuts him down quickly, he moves on.  If she humors him, his disdain for women comes pouring out soon enough in an abusive torrent.

Seattle is a polite place.  I've known bus drivers to tell Burt to shut up and get off the bus a couple times, but I've only experienced a fellow passenger handle him once.  This happened on the 73 Express (the one that only goes as far as 65th, not to Jackson Park)  Burt had been grilling a gal about her bus-riding activities and had just called her stupid for not knowing where Sand Point Way was when a post-grad looking guy in his I'm-working-an-intern-job clothes spoke up.

Intern:  "Shut the fuck up!"
Burt:  "What?"
Intern:  "I said shut the fuck up!"
Burt:  "I'm talking to her . . ."
Intern:  "Shut the fuck up or I will kill you.  Just shut up or I will LITTERALLY kill you!"

Burt took the hint, shut up, shuffled up to the front of the bus, and got off at 50th.  No one heralded the intern as a hero, perhaps worried that he was going to pull some sort of Bernard Goetz vigilante hoodoo. But the remainder of the ride was nice and quiet.

 

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Submitted by Ryan, 3/31: I boarded the 16 downtown on Friday, heading home after an exceptionally shitty day at work.  I was standing in the back, holding onto one of those strappy things, when the bus driver slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting something or other, when the the strappy thing snapped.  I fell forward and knocked over everyone in the aisle like fucking dominoes.  A guy in the front of the bus ended up with a bloody nose and had to get off at the next stop.  At least my I-Pod survived.


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Submitted by Stephanie, 3/23: I bummed a quarter from a bum for bus fare today.  I told him I had to go see my boy friend at the hospital, which was a total lie.  Truth was, I just did'nt want to go into the Rite-aid to get change.  I have noo intention of finding the homeless man and paying him back which I guess makes me a horrible bitch.  I rode the 46 to my friend's house and got drunk at 6 in the evening.  Taht was two hours ago.

 

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