That weird guy on (in?) the bus

Original Post 24 Jan 2007

Everybody has seen one. A weird guy on the bus. It is inevitable. Especially on the night bus home from downtown. And believe me, i've seen more than my share. When you get in the vehicule and the driver is clad in leather, you know you're in for a good time.

That sounds nasty. Village people nasty.

Anyways. Usually these guys entertain me, are somewhat amusing. But the one from last night, was kind of annoying, and a little scary. Since i've been in this type of situation more than once, i've developed a sixth sense that detects 'em. They walk onto the bus, and i immediatly know they are going to be trouble.

Guys, think of this as our chicks radar.

So i just got on the 211, the bus i've been taking for about 7 years now. I was tired from my day of work (had to stay late), so i go straight for the back, a seat on the side of the window, so that i can lean on the wall and sleep for about 45 minutes. But then i see this guy walk in.

Big glasses like Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys, a dark blue hat that goes over his eyebrows, a mouth missing a few teeth. A long, brown winter trenchcoat, and a balance that suggested he's been on the booze. He sits down a few seats from me.

I usually make a mental note here.

The bus goes, i lay my head on the window, and promptly fall asleep.

I wake up to a loud ''JESUS!'', eyes wide open, ready to leap into action. I turn to my left instinctively, and sure enough, the weirdo is on his feet. He must have stayed put for about 5 minutes, judging from where we are in the bus' trajectory.

''JESUS! Jesus loves me. He's the only one who does. And he loves you. Everything i do in life is shit. I am a bad man. But Jesus loves me.'' I figure he's just a drunk religious fanatic, and try to go back to sleep.

''I am a terrorist''

I open my eyes, and intently stare at him. He's laughing.''I'm sorry'' he says, staring at nothing and nobody. ''I'm sorry. That's a joke. Jesus loves you''. Unvealing a Bacardi bottle from a hidden pocket in his coat, he arcs his back, his face now facing upwards, promptly puts the bottle to his mouth, and starts chugging. I could see the friggin' bubbles of air in the bottle, as he was drinking his booze.

I once again try to go back to sleep. I close my eyelids, and let myself go.

What must have been 10 more minutes, and some more loud rambling. At this point, i start to watch the crowd, and smile at the scared faces. I smile, 'cause i'm a little bit scared too. The bus finally arrives at the drunk's destination. He gets on his feet, stumbles to the door, and says: ''I love you all''. This did put a smile on a washed-up, recydled hippie's face.

And in my mind, i think... maybe that's the only reason for these weird guys' existence. To make people smile, at the end of the day. Smile 'cause we think we're lucky we're not one of them. Smile because they act funny or look different. Smile of relief because they are leaving the place. I lay my head on the window once again, close my eyes, relax, and think of all the wackos i've seen on the night bus.

And i smile.