Excerpts from a Diary

Dedicated to the #13 Bus

I think a little reverance is required when one is asked to recall the #13 bus line that runs through Newark, NJ to Irvington, NJ. Not to be confused with any other line owned by the NJ Transit, but demanding special attention by this blogger.

I have ridden the #13 bus for the past two years, to and from downtown Newark and each time I have gotten off at the end of my route I am thankful that I have survived and boggled that I contemplate getting on again.


#13

More than just a regular bus line, the #13 carries its own character. I must admit that the people to board it every day are very much the reason for its character. Other than the screaming and disorderly kids that insist on standing near the doorway to collect reams of yellow reciepts before following their parents to their seats, mothers who stand behind their child while they indulge in the yellow ribbon fantasy claiming that little Rakim has to have it or he will "fall out" - Heaven forbid!

The teenage girls, that always look like grown adults with the Timberlands, puffy South Pole jackets and Baby Phat jeans, tapping at weave encrusted scalps laiden with gel, rap with acrylic tipped fingers on prepaid cellphones while "cracking" on wads of gum behind greased lips. These girls, only a few years behind me in age, roll eyes at strangers in their paths and mutter profanity under their breath as their board with girlfriends equally as provoked.

The young black brothers are the same, dreadlocks twisted and clipped in place, dark jeans hanging from the hips and white tee-shirts under black bomber jackets. I am always amazed that even in the coldest weather a man can wear three tee-shirts and an open jacket with cotton gloves and knitted cap and be fine.

There are mothers, children, teenagers and the elderly on the bus, the token white resident of the urban ghetto that is not afraid to brave public transportation on a sour Monday morning. The bus driver, that has donned blue latex gloves and refuses to make eye contact with the passengers that board his bus and waves off the junkies and crackheads that get on long enough to tell their life's story only to hobble off at the next stop.

posted by Onika @ 3:10 AM