Last week, I traded my sky high heels for flats and my Prius with the built-in chauffeur (the husband) for a city bus with a much less attractive driver. This bus driver did not provide the door-to-door service from home to work and back that I have become accustomed to. In fact, our time together took so long, I could have gone door-to-door almost 3 times - and stayed in my gorgeous heels! (I got the fabulous numbers to your right on Designer clearance and I never want to take them off, especially for something so tragic as the bus. However, it is imperative they are protected so they can remain perfect forever, since i told the husband these are yet another "investment" of mine.)
The first day, I mostly missed my cup holder and heated seat. Ok, I'll be honest - I even missed the soundtrack of life that seems to constantly accompany my wannabe-DJ husband, who either fist pumps to "Baby I like it!" or sings along to Disney's "Lilo and Stitch." Instead, my Sukey (by our friends at Gucci) bag (isn't she lovely? She would actually be great to commute with but you will soon learn that is not her future) and I were victims of uncontrollable temperatures and atrocious prices ($3.50 - that's an absurd amount of money to pay for these conditions). The first attempt at Erin-tries-the-bus-2012 was also conveniently the day the President visited Seattle. I am seriously reconsidering my vote after the traffic induced by Mr. President this fateful Wednesday caused me to miss yoga.
The second day, things went from bad to worse. After 45 minutes at one stoplight and another 45 on one block, I seriously contemplated leaving the bus for a bar! As I looked out the window and wiped the tears from my eyes, my plan continued to formulate - maybe I could get off, buy a bottle of wine, and bring it back on? I always have a wine opener in my handbag. I consider it very Indiana Jones of me, and it has saved the day on numerous occasions. Back to this one: I was confident the bus would be in the exact same spot (probably for another hour at this rate) and other passengers would probably be grateful for this 911 errand. I should probably share with these fellow victims! How else do people survive this? I had a hair appointment to get to! The odd thing was that no one else even seemed concerned... As i was in major meltdown mode--freezing to death, envisioning the diseases spreading from the seat to me, clutching my oversized Gucci to my chest (setting it in the floor would have really ended me), trying to distract myself with Emma Stone's life story in Vogue (read it here - I love her) -- the dude next to me was checking out Sportscenter in his phone like we were relaxing on the beach in Cancun or something! Really?!
After the first hour and a half (and realization that I could not leave the bus to purchase an adult beverage), I started rationing my water. I also continued my irate (and maybe slightly profane) texts to the husband, since obviously any form of traffic or inconvenience in my life is 100% his fault. Thinking of him driving my sweet little Prius while I tortured myself on this slug of an automobile...it was just too much. I made a promise to myself that I would never do this again. Mission Erin-becomes-a-commuter-2012 was officially over. I gave it 2 tries and frankly, 2 tries too many! People (bus riders who say I should try again - apparently my health and wellness means nothing to them) later told me that this was the worse traffic they have seen in Seattle in years. I DO NOT CARE. I am confident it happened this way for a reason. And that reason is God does not want me to ride the bus.
So, see you on the road, bus! I'll have my Fendi's on my feet and the chauffeur will be sure to give you a fist pump as we whiz by.
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