Writing A Blog Means Never Saying You're Sorry

Riding public transportation has its many frustrations, but a lack of interesting stories is not among them. When all goes well, it's a chance to act all puffed up and noble about doing your part in saving the planet, but when something goes not quite smoothly, it's all the better of an anecdote to share in social situations. One rather interesting one came up just yesterday.

It tends to be a surprise when someone talks to you either while waiting for a bus/train or while on one. I suppose that tends to be the case wherever strangers are thrust together. In the context of public transportation, it's more interesting when someone throws caution to the wind and leaps across the implied divide. This happens often with the intoxicated, the mentally deranged and the lonely. How does one classify the elderly gentleman who spoke to me yesterday? I suppose he falls into that last category, if anything, although not exclusively, as you'll likely surmise.

It began in a not unusual way. Having left his car with a mechanic in Van Nuys, he was left with no choice but to navigate the Metro while said car was under repair. Being someone who doesn't ordinarily take the bus, he was unfamiliar, and sought my counsel. I advised him of the proper bus and its likely arrival time, and he seemed appreciative. Unfortunately, the barrier between us was thusly knocked down. That being the case, he began to share his thoughts with me. Chief among them was the possibly erroneous observation that 90% of cars are now driven by women. I was non-committal on the exact percentage, but agreed that a historic rise in the number of female drivers had been a fairly steady trend.

To be fair, he made no judgement concerning the merits of female drivers. I'll remember you whenever I see a female driver or her rare, mythical male counterpart, old man.