WHAT WE SO BLITHELY CALL "THE BUS" IS, IN FACT, ITS OWN LITTLE MICROCOSM WITHIN OUR LARGER SOCIETY. IT HAS ITS OWN RULES, ITS OWN JOYS AND DISAPPOINTMENTS, ITS OWN INSIDE JOKES, AND ITS OWN RABID FANS. THERE ARE NICE PEOPLE, MEAN PEOPLE, WEIRD PEOPLE, CLUELESS PEOPLE, AND ONE DEVASTATINGLY ATTRACTIVE BUSNINJA. AND IT IS NEVER, EVER BORING. IF YOU DON'T THINK UTAH HAS A THRIVING BUS CULTURE, YOU'RE MISSING OUT . . .
Yesterday morning, I got on the 200 to go to work, as I so often do. Everything seemed normal as the bus pulled up and opened the door. Until I got on and . . .
I'm pretty sure I accidentally got on the Frauenpowerbus.
Images of the Frauenpowerbahn in Schwerin, Germany. I could not find bigger pictures.
See, usually when you get on the 200 inbound before about 7:00 a.m., you get a lot of construction workers, groundskeepers, custodians, and the like; for whatever reason, the crowd tends to be mostly male. Except yesterday, when I got on the bus, I was the only man. And I remained the only man on the bus for over twenty blocks. Not that other people didn't get on after me, mind you; they were just all women.