The Sweet Nectar of Vengeance

There is a girl who is a regular on my bus and I simply cannot stand her. I'm not sure where she gets on in the morning, but she works in the same building as I do, but halfway down the building (and the building spans two full blocks). She's in her early 20's, short and stout, with a very plain face that somehow continuously exhibits a sour demeanor while never quite going into a frown or a scowl. She has very long, very plain brown hair that is frizzy with split ends, except when she puts it up in a tight bun that pulls on her forehead. She hops on the bus and takes the first seat open to her, generally in the front section that is supposed to be reserved for the elderly and infirm. She sits down, scoops her large green phone out of her bag, and begins txting. It is hard for me to contain my vitriol.

The worst insult came one morning when I was preparing to disembark. I was standing in the aisle at the front of the bus, waiting for the driver to come to a full and complete stop. As he slowed down, I was shoved aside by the girl as she squeezed by me. I tried to explain "I'm getting off here, too" but it was to no avail. She threw her weight around and walked down the steps, with me, dazed, following behind.

And ever since, I've tried my darndest to shoot daggers out of my eyes at her. Every time she gets on the bus my face turns to an angry grimace.

But yesterday, I got on the bus in a good mood. It was pretty full, so I stood over to the side in the front section reserved for the elderly. I was standing between two women who were sitting, one skinny and one fat (and taking up the space of two people). I was out of the aisle, holding on to the bar, and just kind of standing around. I don't mind standing on the bus. It's not a very long ride and I'm able-bodied. When the larger lady got off, I offered the open seat to a skinny girl standing beside me. She eagerly sat down, but her small size left an additional seat available. Cue the plain looking fatty! She lumbered over, and plopped down, somehow combining this with the act of removing and opening her phone. The end effect was that she went instantly from standing above the seat to sitting and txting, with no intermediate steps. It was uncanny, but did little to mellow my feelings of disgust. She didn't even look around to see if anyone else wanted to sit down. It was like her ass was a magnet, drawn so powerfully to the seat that nothing could stop her. But I held my tongue and stood idly by, thinking of how nice it will be to have my bike fixed so I will no longer have to take the bus on a daily basis. A few stops passed, and then we stopped. A short, elderly gentleman climbed aboard. He had some bags with him, his bottom lip was swollen in a way that goes hand in hand with certain medications, and he was wearing a hat for the 101st Airborne. He set his bags down on the little ledge behind the driver and began looking for a seat.

Here it was, a showdown. On one side, the elderly veteran who holds every claim to sit in the front of the bus. On the other side, three young, able-bodied ladies, each avoiding his gaze, fatty in the middle texting her heart out. The old man seemed to have a mental connection with me for he focused his angry gaze upon the plain looking girl, slowly hobbling with the swaying of the bus until he was standing directly in front of her, myself just a step or two away. Nobody would meet his gaze. I looked back and forth, him staring at them, them avoiding him. Back and forth it went. Finally, I stepped up to assist him.

"How about one of you guys get up to let him sit down?"

Suddenly a fire was lit beneath them. All three looked up, then began looking back and forth deciding who would be the one to get up. "Who? You? Me? Her?" Each one looking around, hoping the others would stand. Finally, our plain fat friend stood up and moved to the front of the bus. The elderly gent sat down, silently thanked me, then pulled out his wallet to point out his "Senior Citizen" card. I nodded in agreement and added "And a veteran too!" He nodded and began talking to the skinny girl beside him. I couldn't make out his comments, but her responses were of the overemphasized, "Oh, I see" variety.

But the point was that the plain fat girl who is the devil in a disguise of long hair and back fat was forced to stand. On top of that, I got to tell her to move while still being morally absolved. It was like having diplomatic immunity. It was beautiful. It reminded me of an idea I once had, where I would accompany my formerly pregnant wife with our infant child on a trip to the mall and hover a bit away from her while she breastfed the youth. Then, I would have the opportunity to rush in and defend her honor if anyone approached. But this was better, because not only did it occur naturally, but I the fat, self-important girl was ultimately the loser of the interaction. Wonderful!