Nov 30 2008
Traveling Home
Tires of the bus begin to vibrate as it hits a rough patch of asphalt on the street below. The vibrations are sent through the frame to the floor, from the floor to my seat. My teeth chatter in my head as I roll over, finally giving up all of my attempts to sleep. The ripe scent of urine runs through the air and stomps through my nostrils, the smell so strong I can almost taste it. I wonder if the homeless lady behind me wet herself, or if people just start smelling like piss after they don’t shower for a while.
I look outside and try to focus my mind on the sense of vision rather than the olfactory senses which are currently overwhelming my brain. The person in front of me is drinking a coffee, the girl across from me is putting on lotion which smells like cucumber melon, each of the two blending together with the urine to create the smell of a port-o-potty which has been sprayed with air freshener. Car after car drives by, each one coming and leaving differing destinations.I left from Big Bear Lake, a small town in southern California and am traveling through Santa Cruz on my way back to San Francisco.
The bus pulls up to a stop at a strange station and I begin to wonder if it is my stop… I sure hope not. A few people come onto the bus, each one paying in quarters. A pretty blond girl who looks a little doped out, maybe one who just shot some heroine or snorted a line of blow. I quickly notice the black lines underneath her eyes as if she has not rested in a few days, her skin clings so tightly to her body due to weight loss that her cheek bones are perfectly defined. Probably into crack, I think to myself. As she continues past me, her body creates a slip-stream of marijuana rich air which hits me so strongly I feel as if I need a shower.
“Mt. Hermon and Spring Lakes- Graham Plaza.” The automated voice of some bitchy middle aged woman rolls through the air into each of our eardrums. Me, the homeless lady, the doped up girl, the two gay guys in front of me… We all hear the same way- We all hear the same thing. Everyone feels like such an individual, each person believes they are the exception to the statistic, as if they are a lone ranger battling against conformity, but they fail to realize that by purposefully attempting to non-conform, they are conforming. A paradox of individuality which none of us will ever escape. We’re all generally a combination of all the same parts and things. We are a brain which requires oxygen, a heart which pumps blood, muscles which cannot run without glucose, and we are all people.
I totally agree with the statement you make in this and I think you got it across in an effective way, but I’ve got to admit that I was highly offended by the “crack whore” jibe. You mentioned that the girl smelled of weed, not that there was a reason to believe she was cracked out (despite your obvious and reasonable grudge against drugs, I know that you’re aware of the imense difference between a plant that is medically legal in several states and a substance that kills or ruins the lives of everyone it touches). Furthermore, there was CERTAINLY no way for you to tell if she was a prostitute and it’s not fair for you to call her such a thing simply because you don’t like that she was doing drugs. Again, loved the idea, hated the hurtful slur.
I appreciate the response and have changed it. However, there are a couple of things I would like to say in response…
One, I don’t believe I have ever said anything about not liking somebody due to drug use or any kind of substance abuse for that matter. I don’t care if people do drugs and would not dislike them simply for that reason. Until they begin hurting others I don’t even believe it is wrong or immoral to use them. In contradiction to your assumptions, the entire point of this blog opposes what you are assuming about me. People are people, it doesn’t matter if they are homeless, users, or gay. I don’t hold a “grudge” against drugs, nor do I think you are correct in saying that it “ruins the lives of everyone it touches.” Many can use drugs and not have it ruin their lives, your assumptions and false accusations seem to overwhelm your response.
To say marijuana is different simply because it is used for medicinal purposes is also a false premise; cocaine was once used as an anesthesia during surgery. I do not deny the fact that cocaine is much different than marijuana, but my reasons for that are not because it is used medically.
I changed it because as you said, I had no way of knowing she was a prostitute nor a crack user. But realize the reason I used it is to say that regardless of how extreme someone’s personality, they aren’t as different as we think. A crack-whore is more extreme than a stoner, which ultimately leads to a more powerful meaning. Thanks for the input, and I truly appreciate you letting me know how you feel; it has been changed in order to prevent anyone else from being offended.