My ride

I love public transport. Really. Even with its interminable delays and innumerable service interruptions, I love public transport because when it is working well, which is more often than you think, it offers a valuable, valuable service. It is a service so valuable I cannot believe I get to use it. It is, to me, magic.

My love for public transport stems directly from my hatred for driving. I love public transport so much because I get to have someone else do what I most abhor, and for a paltry, paltry sum at that. With me, riding the bus has nothing to do with not being able to afford a car of my own, but everything to do with not being able to afford another minute of road rage. Indeed, I road the bus to church yesterday in all of my newfound Georgetown splendor: silk dress, patent flats, cashmere wrap, pearls. Did I look a little out of place? Maybe, but only because it was my first time on that particular bus and I didn’t know exactly where it picked up.

I love public transport.