Saturday, April 28, 2012


The other day I was on the 811.  The 811 is quite long.  On long bus trips, people like to be able to spread out a little bit.  Have some room to themselves.  This is why some people bitterly dislike the 811.

Since, on those intermittent occasions when I ride the 811, I usually get on at the first stop, I make sure to move over so that someone will be able to sit next to me.  Because, as uncomfortable as having to hold still in a seat is, it is much better than standing all the way to Provo (people do . . .).  Some people sit in the aisle seat when they first get on, because they think that will get them the seat to themselves.  Eventually, they all cave to the social pressure.  Whaddaya know, people do have consciences about some things.  Interestingly, even though I always try to make room for another person, and perhaps because I am rather a large chap, the seat next to mine is almost always the last one to fill up.

Except, the other day on the 811, there was this guy sitting with his legs crossed.  I don't know if you've ever attempted this, but it requires that your body be at an acute angle to the back of your seat, with your legs extended well into the other seat's space.  This is fine, as long as no one is sitting in the seat next to you.

But when someone came and sat down next to him, he didn't budge.  Didn't move over.  Didn't uncross his legs.


The other man ended up sitting with his legs sticking out into the aisle; I can tell you how comfortable that was for him.  If it had been me, I probably would have said something.  Or sat in the seat regularly and crunched the other guy's legs against the back of the seat in front of us.

I want people to get the message.  It's because I care.

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