Riding The Bus
Growing up, we had 2 methods of transportation, our feet and the Bi-State bus line. Saint Louis sits right at the edge of Missouri, and Illinois is just a short hop across the river. The two states have busses that run between them, and all over the cities and counties around them. Each bus line is named for the biggest street it drives on, or a neighborhood it travels through. The California bus ran right down our street from 4:30 am until about 2:00 am.
Weekday mornings would bring the California bus every 10 minutes, and the bus was always packed with people going off to their 9-5 jobs. The evening rush would bring the same people home again. The times in-between were the best for people watching.
My sister and I got to experience welfare moms sitting and chatting while their children ran up and down the aisle, teenagers with their funny clothes and loud radios, the homeless -which you sat as far away from as possible, unwashed bodies being fragrant things- and perverts, who were also avoided at all costs.
Bus people really fell into three categories. There were people going about their business, people who were into everybody else's business, and people who had no business being out in public.
One day, J and I were riding the bus to the swimming pool, when a man gets on the bus and sits across from us. We picked up that particular musky smell that means "pervert" coming from him. If you think pervs don't have a smell, you either never lived in a city, or you haven't ridden the bus enough. My sister and I got up and moved to the back of the bus. We sat facing each other on the bench seat in the very back, and put our legs up on it to take up as much room as possible. After a few stops, the pervert got up and moved to the back of the bus. Now we were stuck. If we tried to move to the front, he would try to touch us. If we stayed where we were, he would eventually move all the way back and touch us. Needless to say, we did not want to be touched.
.ew.
Have I mentioned that my sister and I are both rather bright? We waited for an opportunity to bolt for freedom, and it came shortly. A group of teenagers got up to get off the bus, and we used them as a shield to get past the perv, touch free.
We didn't want to get off and walk the rest of the way to the pool, so we ran to the front of the bus and sat behind the driver. Like an obedient dog, the pervert followed us. He sat directly across from us and adjusted his cut-off shorts. That was when we saw his very engorged penis. It was sticking out of his left pants leg. We were very uncomfortable, and a good deal frightened too. we held each other's hand and tried not to look at him, or that hideous thing peeking out of his shorts at us.
Thank God for those people who get into everybodies business. We would probably still be riding the bus, afraid to get off, if it weren't for busybodies. A wonderful middle-aged woman, with huge breasts and a tiny leather handbag, moved from her seat and saved us. She came down the aisle like a stately rhinocerous, clutching her little handbag before her, and sat down right next to us.
She looked at us and smiled, then she turned her head and stared at his penis. She just sat and stared, and his erection fled like shadows before the sun. He moved his seat again, and our avenging angel followed him.
He left the bus at the very next stop.
Thank you to all the busybodies out there for standing up and doing something. You're not only saving children, you're teaching them lessons too. Our savior never said a word. She didn't have to. Her eyes were the only weapon she needed to wither him away to dust.