The engine, tires on road, computers, ipods, the occasional CD player for those that refuse to switch or lack money to do so, talking, snoring, breathing bodies in almost every seat. I, myself, am wearing headphones on this double decker monstrosity of a bus. Regardless of my blocked ears I can still hear everything. There’s man across the isle and two seats back with an ambiguous object which he clicks and clicks. The sound is only slightly louder than the tapping of the raised shades hitting the windows. And before more than half the bus fell asleep there was an abundance of conversation between familiars held at outside voice level to compete with the subtle roar of the bus. It’s almost as if I’ve never noticed the vehicle aspect of the bus and the noises that come with it. You can’t escape the toneless humming, not even the tiny bathroom you don’t want to be in.
We’re all the same, dreading the chair next to a stranger. So we’ve made remedies. Putting jackets, backpacks, purses, cameras, computers, hats, shoes, sweaters, books, our own legs on the empty seat next to us. Then when the bus stops in Baltimore we pretend to be sleeping or turn our heads so far toward the window next to us it’s as if we’re watching TV, too enthralled to look away. It works. The bus driver pulls out of the lot and two new passengers are left desperately seeking the person who is trying the least to avoid eye contact. Eye contact is that silent contract between you and this stranger for the seat next to you. Once you look at them you’re doomed to be between the wall and someone you’ve never met before. Those lucky enough to have companions seem to sleep more easily than the rest of us. Except, of course, for those who revel in their independence sprawling their bodies beyond the boundaries of their two seats.
After paying close attention I feel there can be two general categories for the type of person that can be found on the bus
- Those that come with groups, one friend or significant others. They settle, they laugh, they sleep comfortably because they don’t have to worry about accidentally leaning on some one they don’t know. These people seem treat the bus in the way I imagine they treat their living rooms. It almost seems a zone of comfort and closeness for those people. Do they ever travel alone? How would they change?
- Those that travel alone. This category can be split into many. All the lonely travelers on this bus wear that “please don’t sit next to me” expression. However, there are those that look at no one and when sitting next to a stranger do not talk or look at the person next to them. There are the lonely travelers who unintentionally make eye contact, but do not talk or look at the person next to them after this initial nonverbal communication. There are the lonely travelers who consciously and curiously look down the isle at the oncoming passengers, but do not talk or look at the person who ends up next to them. Last, this lonely traveler is very similar to the last but this lonely traveler will talk to a stranger but only for a little while.
The most enjoyable part for me is seeing the expression on certain faces change from “please don’t sit next to me” to “it might be ok if you have this seat next to me” when an attractive member of the opposite sex makes their way down the isle. Apparently, strangers are less intimidating when they’re attractive. What a thought.
My research led to me a humorous conclusion. Either we expect bedroom comfort on our travels or everyone is terrified of strangers in their personal space unless we could imagine bringing them home with us. The noise is almost unbearable, as well. With our nerves and our busy ears it really is a surprise when the snores begin to add to the orchestra of the bus trip to New York city.