Bus a Groove

I love the bus, both in the abstract and in the particular. My favorite bus of all time was the trusty #8 Halsted in Chicago, which I took every day for years. But I think my current bus, the #14 in Minneapolis, is fast replacing the #8, largely on the strength of the sheer wackiness of the goings-on near and on it, such as beatings and beratings.

Today's shining moment of busness was a positive one, though: a Somali woman, who looked to be middle-aged and who was wearing the full headscarf and cloak, sat down just in front of me. Abruptly, at one bus stop, she threw the window open, leaned most of the way out, and used a perfect sidearm throw to pitch a wad of paper into the slot of a garbage can that was easily six feet away from her. It was a tough throw, and she did it with unexpected, marvelous effortlessness and ease.