After I got off the T in Davis, I decided I was tired enough that I could take the bus. Terri thinks taking the bus is cheating yourself out of a 15 minute walk. I think not taking the bus is cheating yourself out of a potential source of good stories.
Friday’s trip on the 87 bus was a case in point.
While we were waiting for the light to change to pull out of the Davis Square bus area, a rather inebriated guy with a grey crew cut and a fairly packed physique, kept putting his fist in the air and yelling “we’re the Marines!!!”. A couple of bratty kids outside the bus (let’s assume they were waiting for the 96 to Medford) started saluting him. He yells to the driver “hang on, I’m getting off!”. He proceeds to dangle out the front door and point threateningly and yell incoherently at the kids, who laugh and run into the station.
The guy swings back into the bus and lurches down the aisle to his seat as the bus starts moving. He’s talking to himself or yelling things at people on the bus, like “hey, cupcake, how do you know if you don’t give me a try?” or pointing sort of threateningly at this kid and saying “you, young man, need to show some respect”. The kid’s mom is sort of protectively standing over the kid with her hands on his shoulders. This went on for a minute or so and the guy didn’t seem about to give up, so I decided that I needed to take some kind of action. I didn’t want to do anything pick a fight with a drunk ex-Marine, especially since he looked like he could be a mad drunk, but I just kind of decided that I’d walk up into the aisle between him and the kid to distract the guy.
The guy looks at me. He starts studying my face. “You look very familar. Where do I know you from?” He keeps staring. “I KNOW! You’re the guy who got me out of jail today!” He holds out his hand. We shake. “Thank you, my friend. You got me out of jail today!” He calmed down a little and went back to just yelling “We’re the marines!”
And then it was my stop.