The sleek silver cylinder of the bus is reminiscent of old-fashioned chrome, standing out amongst the muted colors of today's faceless automobiles. Furthermore, the sheer democracy of the system seems out of place. No reserved seats, everyone in line. No first or second class. Now we jump effortlessly from city to city, terminal to terminal.
People do their best to make it more tolerable.
Personal stereo on, comforter in place, you can see them trying to forget that they are on a bus, trying to pass the time by sleeping. At stops they glare reproachfully at anyone who tries to sit next to them, or else they simply lie asleep across two seats, an even more formidable challenge to any potential neighbour. I try this, but somehow cannot feign sleep convincingly enough. Besides, when I see people picking their way down the bus, desperately scanning for a free seat, I remember myself in their position having just boarded a bus, and how it felt. I remember how hostile the sleeping backs and piled bags and coats seemed then.