Bus platform reamed and getting fuller by the second. Breathing out, trails of human exhaust circle and float. I got there just seconds ago, relieved to be going home. Looking around, the face of exhaustion was evident. Whether from a long day of work, school or just plain life - people itching to get to wherever.
Not many enjoy waiting like cattle for a bus.
Now there's a natural order to things. Even seasons understand that Spring crawls before Summer and that Autumn skips before Winter's march. It's awesome that one doesn't have to think so hard when it comes to this. But then there a few exceptions. People born of privilege, fed with Wonder Woman's silver spoon, is how I'll affectionately word it.
So, this woman steps on the platform. She saunters with a cat-like step easing to the front of the pack. This, this is forgivable, we've all seen people like this. But she does stand out in this way. Unseasonably underdressed, wearing a faux fur head piece, yellow tinted aviators, slim velvet tracksuit, well-painted nails, holding a half-eaten take-away of Popeyes chicken.
Side note: I'm auto-observant. Been that way since birth, and it's bled into my every-waking life. I think the writer in me fuels this all the more. The bad side of this is that I'll intentionally/unintentionally stare at people and things for a length of time: I'm so creepy.
So the bus arrives and we all board. Queen Faux Fur gets on first, she's first in line. The bus gets packed, sardine-like, fast. And as we nudge through rush hour, within a few minutes an argument of some sort wafts from the end of the bus to the front. The voices getting louder and angrier as seconds pass.
Of course everyone tilts their head, ready for anything. This is Scarborough, the East end, the Ghettoie side of the tracks. A place where Hipsters fear to tread.
And as the voices get louder, more voices step in. Words begin to slice. It doesn't sound good.
The entire bus is involved at this point.
"You're a very rude woman!"
"Both those seats don't belong to you."
"You and your accent, go back to your country!"
"Oh, you want this seat? You want this seat! You ain't having it!"
"You're an ugly woman, fucking ugly!"
"Look at your ugly hat and cheap sunglasses. Yeah, go home and finish your chicken."
"Here, here's a quarter," someone tosses a quarter her way. " That's what your worth. Here, here's another quarter. Go buy an outfit."
"Go home to your lonely apartment. Who would ever want to be with someone ugly like you. Who would call you?"
There was more. Much more ugly that followed.
Getting off the bus, I got the backstory. The back-end bus story to tie it all together.
Queen Faux Fur apparently didn't want anyone sitting next to her, and when asked to move over, she poured her cola onto the empty seat, thus - no one's sittin' here. Thus the bus erupts.
What surprised me was that all the people throwing words with QueenFF were men, all coming to defend a woman who just wanted to sit down.
Lesson learned, I hope, for Queen Faux Fur. Unlike downtown, this is Scarborough. If you act loud and proud like that, you're not only treating one person that way, you might as well be speaking to me. And if you're acting that ugly, you'll get double ugly in return.
Apparently QueenFF shed a few tears from the crushing backlash. Maybe she thought her beauty would allow such rudeness to pass. Maybe she's gotten away with it in the past. But not that day and definitely not here.
