That Time this Girl Sat on Me

There was a time when I would share the following story with anyone willing to listen to me rant about the injustices of bus life. The problem with sharing a story like this is that nobody gives a crap about bus life in San Antonio. If you can’t operate a vehicle in South Texas, you might as well be homeless.

As you can imagine, everyone I told was apathetic to my plight; my audience didn’t have to endure public transportation the way I did. THEY DIDN’T GET MY SITUATION.

Hell exists

So let’s go back to 2005—a year frozen in time like that Jurassic Park mosquito in amber. I experienced a lot of first-time emotions that year: heartbreak, “depression,” self-discovery, success, failure, freedom.

But before I had an opportunity to blossom into a pseudo adult, I first had to get through a semester of accounting at my university’s downtown campus. Unlike picturesque schools of the northeast, I attended a public university in South Texas.

There are no trees.
There is no shade.

There are only blistering hot benches on which to sit while you wait 25 minutes for a bus that’s seen better days. (There are also loads of transients who look like they’ve seen better days. More on this later.)

I lied. There are like two trees and a bush.

I soon discovered the key to securing a desirable spot on the bus: anticipate where the bus will park and stand right where the entrance is going to be. I was also prepared to get aggressive and elbow my way to the back of the bus, all so that I could stretch out and sit by the scratched-up window. There was no way I was going to share a small two-seater with a complete stranger and risk the possibility of having to talk to him/her. No thank you. I had my jams and heartbreak to keep me company.

I had to travel between two campuses my senior year of college. For a person without a car and the ability to drive, this was not ideal. Not only did I have to rush out of my Web design class to catch the bus headed to the downtown campus, but I also had to rush out of my downtown accounting class to catch the bus destined for the main campus to make it to whatever my afternoon class was.

All this sprinting and baking was a recipe for disaster. August temperatures can hit the 100s in San Antonio. People die in this heat. Fortunately for me, I didn’t die. I also naturally don’t sweat that much (I think I’m constantly dehydrated because I only drink diet soda). However, shy sweat glands were not prevalent among my fellow commuters, so there was definitely a yellow cloud hovering over some of them. Hell, I know I had a yellow cloud over me on certain days. I’M ONLY HUMAN.

So one day I made my way to the back of the bus. My plan had worked! I got my favorite spot, the best seat in the house! The bus started to fill up pretty quickly, but I didn’t mind because a guy sat next to me and only left enough space for our backpacks. I thought to myself, Nice thinking, guy. We’re golden.

Enter mystery girl.

I looked up as this oddly proportioned girl shuffled onto the bus. I couldn’t tell if she was a runaway or a . . . runaway. I thought to myself, I wonder where she’s going to sit. Some of the last available spots are pretty tight and hard to get to, and her backpack is big in a non-youthful way. Her backpack is filthy. Maybe she never learned how to take care of her personal belongings. She needs to tie her shoes or she is going to fall and die.

I figured she would stand until someone got off at one of the bus stops along our route. But she kept moving toward the back of the bus. I started looking around to check my work. Had I tallied up the available spots incorrectly? Where was this runaway running to?

And then she sat on me.

At this point, I didn’t know what to do. It’s not like her entire body was on top of me, but she definitely had the left half of her body on my lap. The right half of her body poured into the space reserved for my neighbor’s bag and the rest of her gently collided with my neighbor’s shoulder and knee. He didn’t seem affected by it (maybe he was questioning her mental health; maybe he secretly liked what was going on).

Not wanting to cause a scene, I stayed quiet. Keep in mind I was still trying to figure out if this girl was homeless, and I felt I had enough data to confirm my suspicions. BUT THEN SHE PULLED OUT HER iPOD and started doing “studenty” things. The bus started up, and she got more comfortable. Her body relaxed and her legs opened up slightly. And that’s when it hit me. A shark’s wet dream.

This was not okay. But like any non-confrontational, shy person, I just held my breath and prayed she didn’t bleed on my leg.

What’s going on down there? (Still from The Shining)

We hit the midway part of our destination. It was here that about 25% of the people on the bus hopped off. The mystery girl was not one of them. Rather, she was leaning in ever so slightly to sneak a peek at what was playing on my iPod.

Maybe it’s because I had already committed myself to this situation and didn’t feel like quitting. Maybe I didn’t want her to win my strategically selected seat. Maybe I secretly liked it like my neighbor! I’ll tell you what: I didn’t push her off and move to a different seat. I kept on being her human tampon the rest of the 15 minutes to the main campus.

She rode my leg hard, but she didn’t leave a spot. Instead, my pants smelled like iron and poop for the rest of that hot, sweaty day.