When you ride on Metro Access, you have a choice of three types of vehicles.
Wait, let me re-phrase that.
There is no choice on para-transit.
You are placed in one of three types of vehicles.
Wait.
That's not true either.
It depends on your disability, and what kind of mobility device you use, and if you use one at all.
If you use a power wheelchair, you can only ride on what I call "the short bus." (I'm not the only one who uses that term)
If you use a manual wheelchair, then you will either ride on the short bus, or what I call the "refrigerator car" or "box car" (the actual name for the vehicle is "MV1".)
If you use a walker, or no mobility device, then you might ride on the short bus, the "refrigerator car" or the minivan.
My favorite vehicle is the minivan. It is the most comfortable, and the easiest one to enter and exit, unless you're wearing a winter coat and/or loaded down with bags / luggage, etc. Still, the minivan is the best. The "refrigerator car" is okay, but the bench seat can be crowded when three people sit there, and my feet don't touch the floor, which is annoying. My least favorite vehicle in the short bus. The steps are steep, and the bus doesn't handle potholes, speed bumps, road humps, or really any roads at all well. The short buses have lifts, and most of them rattle when the vehicle is in motion. Like, a lot.
So this morning I drew the short straw, in more ways than one. I struggled up the steps in my winter coat with my rather bulky bag and sat in the second row of seats. There are six rows of seats on the bus, with two seats per row. That's twelve seats for the arithmetic-challenged. I sat in the second row.
I calmly read a book on my phone as the driver navigated the wet, cold roads. We picked up a gentleman who settled into a seat in the row behind me. Not a problem.
And then we picked up a second guy, and his female companion. I continued reading my book, with my bag in the seat beside me.
All of a sudden, a slow, thick, deep voice rumbles beside me.
"Move your bag. I'm sittin' there."
Uh...what?
There's nine other seats, including three rows that are completely empty, so he could have two seats to himself.
But no.
He wants to sit next to me.
He insists to sit next to me.
Interestingly, he seemingly has no desire to sit beside the woman he is traveling with.
Sister?
Mother?
Caregiver?
I don't know.
None of my business.
She doesn't try to dissuade him from sitting next to me.
Thanks lady.
I pause a moment, then put my bag on my lap. Immediately he falls into the seat next to me, shoving me up against the window.
I am small.
He is not.
And he has a large lunch tote with him.
The driver takes a look at the inside of the bus before he returns to his seat.
Either he doesn't notice my resting bitch face, or he chooses to ignore my obvious unhappiness with the situation.
Said seatmate attempts to have a conversation with me, but I'm not having it. I respond to his queries with tight, one word responses.
"Where you goin?"
"Work"
"Where you work at?"
"library"
"What street that on?"
"Brazos"
I am being squished.
My arms are caught at my sides.
I can't hold my phone up to read anymore.
He is much too close for comfort.
And then...it's 45 degrees outside, and no heat on in the bus, but my new companion calls out, "Hey driver, could you turn on the AC?"
I'm channeling my inner drag queen as I scream inside my head, "Oh no you better don't!"
I want to suggest to him that he might cool off if he removes his heavy jacket, AND puts a little breathing space between the two of us. Translation, "Get the frack off me!"
I will survive this ride.
I will survive this ride.
I will survive this ride.
And I do.
We pull up to the library, and with a heavy sigh Mr. Friendly unlatches his seat belt and lets me exit.
I make my escape.
I could have been nicer.
It's true.
I'm just someone who needs personal space from strangers.
Especially in the morning.
No....
ANYTIME
librarianintx
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