Weed on the Bus
On the 16 leaving the University, after dark, I quickly scanned the length of the bus looking for an empty seat. I was trying to abide be the first unwritten rule of public transportation, never sit next to someone, unless there are no more seats unoccupied. Upon the realization that I would have to share a seat with an unfriendly looking stranger, the bus started moving. I quickly plopped into the seat next to a stranger. After a few short seconds, I started to see that the unidentified male was completely wasted. I tried, unsuccessfully, to not pay attention to him, but the very minute I decided I didn’t care and that he was harmless, he proceeded to start shouting at the guy seated behind us. These two men were undeniably, at the very least, acquaintances. I couldn’t understand what was being said, due to the fact that he was so intoxicated. Moments later, he was reaching into his pocket and pulling out a plastic fold-top sandwich bag, which contained two cigar-shaped logs of weed. Then he continued to tell his friend that this pot had just arrived from Brooklyn earlier that afternoon, and that if he needed anything, to just let him know. And with that the bus pulled up to my stop.