mikidemillion

Ride the Storyline Express – with Booger Boy

In Don't Read This - It's Personal, Random Posts, Ride the Storyline Express, Uncategorized, Writing - Novel Chapter Posts, Writing - Short Story Posts, Writing - Understanding Style and Technique on March 28, 2010 at 5:01 am

I wrote a piece about beating Writer’s Block by riding public transportation.  So many stories, so many lives passing by in front of your eyes.

If you missed the first story, here’s a link:

https://mikidemillion.wordpress.com/2010/03/21/writers-block-ride-the-storyline-express/

As mentioned in my first piece, help out fellow writers and post what you see along the way of your day.  Things at work, people on the train, or overheard conversations of someone on a cell phone.  All ideas for writers traveling that lonely stretch of writer’s block.  SHARE THE RIDE.  Add a link to your story under comments or simply tag your own story with Ride the Storyline Express.  We’ll find you.

Here’s another happening along the mikidemillion route:

I laugh when I see ads from city hall urging the masses to use public transportation.  Save energy.  Save the environment.  Save money.

Here’s a tip to city governments everywhere – the best advertisement to keep people off public transportation is to have them try public transportation.  No amount of advertising dollars can reverse that trend.  Am I the only one who understands this?

Don’t get me wrong.  I love riding the bus.  There are things that occur on the bus a writer couldn’t imagine possible without seeing it first.  Humanity.  That’s what I see.  humanity.

Sometimes I’ll get off a standing-room-only bus before my regular stop and catch one of the crosstown buses with seats available.  It’s inconvenient, but more than makes up for elbows in the face and backpacks gouging into the side for a miserable thirty minutes or more.  Most of the time I can expect the crosstown bus to provide a leisurely ride.  But this time was not to be a most-of-the-time ride.

It was a half-empty bus.  The sideways seat benches at the front, long enough for five people each, were occupied by a single person on the right-hand side.  I sat two seats back in the regular, front-facing seats.  The moment the man walked up the bus steps I knew something was wrong.

He jerked and stumbled to the empty sideways bench.  He practically slid across the plastic seating, partially lying on it with his legs kicking at the other end.

oh great.  a drunk.

All this and the bus hadn’t moved yet.

He managed somehow to sit upright as the bus pulled away.  Then I saw it.  How could I have missed that?  I was too busy willing him not to fall to the floor.   He had the longest, slimiest green booger I’ve ever seen.  Hanging from his nose.  I mean, this thing had a life of its own.  It swayed with the rhythm of the bus.  Must have been three inches long.  And the guy sat, head hanging, oblivious of this thing coming out of his nose.

Would he sniff it back in?  You know that sound.  ugh.  I almost threw up thinking about it.

There’s a joke about it, even.  You ask, “What’s green and goes backward?”  then answer with a swift sniff backwards.  It doesn’t have the same impact if you don’t have a cold.

It was pea green in color, the color of soup.  I’ve never seen snot that looked like that.  It hung on for the next three blocks.  I couldn’t look in his direction without wanting to gag.  I had to watch out the window.  But I knew it was there, swinging back and forth, keeping time with the hand straps above the seats.  I had to close my eyes, afraid I might catch a glimpse of that solid, slippery green thing from the corner of my eye.  It made me sick.

I heard the bump and opened my eyes.  Booger boy was on the floor of the bus.  Just laying there, like it was the most natural thing to do.  I did not have the stomach to look at his face.  Two people got on the bus and, very politely, stepped past him.  The bus driver continued down the street.

Are you kidding me?  I leaned forward in my seat to say something.  The lady from the opposite bench had already stepped over him to speak to the driver.  People stared, the lady pointed at him, and the bus driver kept driving but turned around every so often to look at the guy on the ground.

Then the guy began flailing like a fish in the bottom of a boat.   His arms and legs flopped in all directions.

“Sir!” the bus driver said.  She looked back at him as she drove.

“Sir!” she said again.

Booger boy rolled over and back again.  He began grunting and slapped the floor with his hands.

The bus driver stopped the bus.  She stood near her driver’s seat and looked at him for a long while, then reached into a compartment and, very slowly, pulled on some ivory colored rubber gloves.  Maybe that booger was still there, hanging on.  I wasn’t about to look.

A man with two small children came to her rescue.  He held the man’s arms and the bus driver held his legs.   In a calm voice the man instructed the guy and the driver what to do.  Soon the guy lay still and the driver called an ambulance.

Behind us another bus pulled up at the same time the ambulance arrived.   I really wanted to stay and find out what the medical experts thought was wrong with him.  Maybe he wasn’t drunk after all.  But what could it be except that?

Can a person have a seizure after drinking too much alcohol?  And, how can a booger defy the laws of gravity for so long?  Things I would have never thought about if I hadn’t taken the bus.

Have a story to share?  I know this stuff doesn’t only happen to me.  Come on, get out that keyboard and tell us your travel stories!  Maybe it will steer someone away from that hard road known as writer’s block.

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  1. Urgh… my stomach is turning too…

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