Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Every Young Adult Should Have Life Alert 1

Taking a bus at 10 in the morning provides a glimpse into a world someone my age doesn't often see. Mostly because we don't want to. Usually doing something else during this time, we forget one very significant detail about the proverbial hump of a day's routine:

The elderly own it.

It's why the Price is Right is on and why the world feels like it's in the middle of a Prunelax-addled enema. It's the senior primetime.

Their prescence is felt so strongly it's almost as though they anxiously await the 10AM hour like a 20 year old Facebook's excitedly about Friday night.

"Like this if you can't wait to bother everyone in line at the Shop-Rite this morning!!!"
(Uploaded via Jitterbug at 8:59AM)

This was reflected by my bus ride (Oh that's where I started), which passes through the obligatory "All the old people sit in front of this" apartment complex, a small town neighborhood, and eventually a shopping center.

Tangent time: What compels the elderly to sit on benches routinely as they stare in the sky? I dunno, but it sounds like an opening to a terrible joke.

They slowly and delicately settled onto the decrepit caravan with an engine with complete oblivion; one of the strangest, and most admirable, details of the elderly. If punk/anarchy at its truest form is dependent upon little a shit you give for the feelings/convenience of others, the elderly are the most real punks I've ever seen.

This was surmised by this small black lady, who found her stop was coming soon, as noted by her apt unseating, a move which looked as though she was having her own framerate issues.

In an effort to relay this, her left arm made a move for a red object in between windows as her right arm meekly held her frail body in position. She then wantonly slapped at it.

It was the emergency lever.

Fortunately she didn't pull it down, and as she was standing I was making the effort to find the "STOP" button for her, which I did successfully. But I couldn't let this small detail go; she simply took it for granted that this must have been the stop tape, and did not care (Or perhaps even fathomed) that she would be making a silly mistake.

She walked deliberately towards the front, helped by an older gentlemen who grabbed her arm while he was in his seat towards the front. I thought this sweet of him, but my cynicism quipped "Maybe he just likes that. What if he just wants to touch arms 'cause it's hot?"

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