a muse .
soundtrack: rain, rain, go away // thoughts: of everyday mysteries
i waited more than half an hour for the bus today. it was pouring, and windy, and the covered area near the bus stop was completely full. if you’ve seen my bus stop, you’d realise that this means a LOT of people.
you know why there were lots of people at the bus stop? because the buses were full and kept going straight past, not letting anyone on. this happens once in a while on a normal day, but extremely often on rainy days. in fact, during the time i was at the bus stop, i would say about 10 buses went past me.
i think this is one of those mysteries, you know, like the mystery of the the disappearing socks in the wash. the mystery of why public transport becomes extremely congested on rainy days.
i understand that traffic moves slower, and people take taxis which congests the traffic, and so you might get home later, but that doesn’t mean more people catch the bus and train, does it? i mean, does the rain suddenly make people expand to twice their size so that they take up more space on the bus? does the rain grow extra people who will fill up the bus and make them go past my stop?
a simple solution might be that the people who normally walk home have decided to catch public transport due to the weather. but no matter how many times i think about this, it just isn’t good enough. the amount of people can’t suddenly manifest to such a large extent. the spread is like multiplying bacteria. large, wet and annoyed bacteria carrying the dodgiest invention on earth which supposedly protects them from the rain.
and so we poke at people while we fumble awkwardly, trying to balance our umbrellas and bags and bus tickets in our two spare hands. we push and shove as we get on the bus, just in case being left off means another half an hour of waiting.
maybe if these people stopped to consider what was going on, and stopped thinking about their sole aim of pushing past the other people to get to the bus, they could muse about these things too. but then they’d be like me. we can’t have that now, can we?