By Tom Sabulis
We’re seeking anecdotes from readers about the daily trials and tribulations of surviving the commute in metro Atlanta. Comment on this blog or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. We will print the best of them in Tuesday’s newspaper. Here’s my own example:
The aplomb of some MARTA bus drivers continues to impress me. One day last week, a respectable-looking woman near the back door of the No. 12 bus caught my attention. She was alone and not talking with anyone, yet she kept laughing loud and long — delightfully, really — out of the blue.
I couldn’t tell why. She didn’t seem drunk or medicated. I couldn’t see if she had a Bluetooth or earplug for some audio device; maybe she was listening to David Sedaris or Bill Cosby? I don’t know.
I tried not to stare and went back to reading my own book. A moment later, she ferociously cleared her throat and excavated what must have been a deep and large reservoir of phlegm. And instantly went silent. At that point, everyone on the bus, which was stopped at a light, seemed to be dreading what usually follows — the sound of somone spitting.
I thought to myself, Please do not do this on the bus. Then the woman stood up. Before anybody could say anything (or seek cover), the driver, as if on cue, opened the back door, the woman expectorated outside, the doors closed, the spitter sat down and the bus inched forward, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Driver never said a word. Barely took his eyes off the road. Seen it all before, I guess.