Posts in: Howidecidewheretosit

HIDWtS: Don't be that guy.

Some days I have a clear picture of what is right and what is wrong. Per yesterday’s post, there are unspoken rules that are pretty obvious. When they occur, passengers are fazed, or are at least slightly less apathetic than usual. Other days, I am just not sure. There is one Muni seating situation that never fails to throw me because it seems wrong yet fazes no one but me: Blockit No Pocket.

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HIDWtS: Crazy train.

Things that are commonly acceptable to do while on public transit: Reading. Writing. Listening to music. Playing games on your handheld gadget of choice. Knitting, crocheting, embroidering, or any other craft that doesn’t involve poking someone else’s eye out. Sitting quietly. Napping if you don’t fall over into the aisle or into someone’s lap. Smiling. Singing, but only if you are part of a way-cool a cappella group and only singing one song and it happens to be one I like.

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HIDWtS: Smell ya later.

Today the shuttle was nearly full when I boarded, so I chose the seat next to the person who looked like she smelled good. I know I didn’t include this in my rule set, but that’s because I hadn’t realized it was a rule before today. So here is my new rule set: Sit in empty row. Sit next to someone who looks like they smell good. Sit next to someone who looks like they smell neither good nor bad.

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HIDWtS: Pat endings.

This morning I was very distracted, which meant I got out of the house early instead of just on time. I don’t know why this works the way it does, but it may have something to do with how I am too distracted to worry over the little aspects of getting ready. The getting-ready part is in automatic mode as my brain cells tussle. The subject of the distraction was a bad movie I watched last night.

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HIDWtS: Predictably unpredictable.

Today’s installment is not brought to you by anything. At all. Because that’s how I am. I mix it up on you. See? I’m not predictable! Well, I am. But I’m not! And also am. It is the age-old struggle of loving an established routine and yet always getting bored enough to poke at it. There is one constant in my life: too little sleep. Last night, I guest-starred in a game of D&D.

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HIDWtS: Inappropriate footwear for the Apocalypse.

The fog is back. Yesterday morning it was 70 degrees at 7am. Today it was in the fifties and foggy. I’ll let you guess which I prefer as I don my sweater, scarf, coat, and boots. After a night of disturbing dreams – which I cannot blame solely on “The Wire” but I probably should not be watching that right before bed – I stumbled through my morning ablutions and to Muni.

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HIDWtS: Rumble seat.

A brief shuttle anatomy lesson is required for today’s How I Decide Where to Sit. The shuttle is comprised of, um, many rows with four seats per row, two on either side of the center aisle. The very last row goes straight across the back of the bus, ending abruptly at the wheelchair-accessible ramp machinery. I call the last row the rumble seat because it is as close as you can get to roughing it while still being inside the shuttle.

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HIDWtS: You snooze, you don't lose.

Today’s episode of How I Decide Where to Sit was brought to you by the letter Z, the letter Z, and the letter Z. I was all on time, all over on time, all up on time, and various other prepositional phrases. But I was sooooo sleepy. (FunkyPlaid and I had gotten home pretty late from the Scrabble tournament, and then watched an episode of “The Wire” instead of going straight to sleep.

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HIDWtS: No choice at all.

Today’s How I Decide Where to Sit is subtitled “And that is all my fault.” My cold/flu hybrid illness has been hanging on since Memorial Day weekend, despite my best attempts to sneeze, cough, walk, sleep, and vitamin it off. This morning I hid in bed for a little too long before getting ready. This is where you might lecture me about staying home from work while sick, and I might agree with you, but I obsess over not taking too much sick-time because, let’s face it, the American working world can be a little crazy about sick-time.

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HIDWtS: Muni edition.

Hello! This is a very special edition of How I Decide Where to Sit because it did not involve the work shuttle at all. Today I decided, against my better judgment and experience, to take Muni to work. That decision was 90% laziness, 8% capriciousness, and 2% annoyance from yesterday’s encounter. Deciding where to sit on Muni is a little different from deciding where to sit on the shuttle. Skipping over the priority seating area, I apply the following criteria in order: Is there dirt, wetness, and/or unidentifiable disgusting crud on the seat?

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.

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