After my first post on CultureMap, I received an email from a lady who shares my love for Public transportation, though she rides the bus rather than the light rail. She was quite thrilled to read my stories, so I thought it would be neat to share a few of hers.

Here is Jessica‘s Banana Story.
Since I’m just now starting this blog, in order for you all to get the real effect of my bus stories, I’ll have to start from the beginning (also my favorite):

I moved from NYC to Houston in August 2008. In NYC, it was completely normal to take public transportation; in fact, you HAD to since no one could afford a car. So it was a daily occurance to take the subway, cross town, uptown bus, pedicab etc. Of course I had my fair share of hilarious stories from those days, but I’ve drank since then.

With the move back to Texas, I was excited to continue taking public transportation because 1) work paid for it; 2) it was way less stressful than driving in Houston traffic and 3) well I’m just lazy and prefer someone else to do the driving. My first few weeks went by somewhat uneventful. Luckily I lived about a 4 block walk from the bus stop (walking?? in Houston?? blasphemy!) I would usually kill 2 birds with 1 stone and bring something to eat on the bus (granola bar, various fruit choices) and never had any problems. All was going dandy until one day I brought along a banana to eat on the quick 8 minute ride.

That day seemed like any other day: muggy, humid…or so I thought. I get to the bus, step in, tap my “Q Card” (read: NYC’ers – this is our version of the MetroCard, but waaaaaaaaay cheaper oh and banana in hand. I get actually 4 steps in, until Mizz Bus Driver turns and says “Nu uh, no eatin’ on my bus!” I turn around, slightly confused, as I have eaten many times before on the bus, although not the same bus driver. So (bear in mind I had only been out of NYC for about 2 months at this point) I turn to her and with “sweetest” of voices, explain this to her, and turn right back to sit down. She repeats herself. I roll my eyes and realize this is going nowhere, and she won’t leave until her rules are followed! So, I go to take a step out of the bus to throw away the peel, and then, she does the unimaginable…she CLOSES THE DOOR AND BEGINS TO TAKE OFF….WITH MY BAG IN HER BUS!! Looking back, I probably looked pretty funny running after the bus beating on the door, yelling at her to stop.

She finally stops (not due to my beatings, but she’s at a red light, she HAS to) she reluctantly opens the door, glares me down, says “I told you, no eatin’ on my bus.”

If looks could kill, we would both still be in jail…