Riding the Barton bus!

Remind me never take the Barton bus again after 1 or 2 p.m. Morning time it usually is okay though.

Wall to wall people! It would be nice if they put one of those stretch buses on, especially at rush hour time! The service is good, about every ten minutes but there always seems to be lots of people on that route.

Yesterday was a damp, humid day and the bus was packed with all types of people.

Short people, tall people, fat people, skinny people and the in between!

Among the characters in the play, aptly named the Barton Bus, was an old man with a walker who would not budge, even when people had to squeeze past him. People did not say a word to him, just squeezed by. It was an interesting experience watching them. I kept waiting for somebody to tell him to move down in the bus so that others could get in, but nobody did.

The plot thickened as people kept coming into the already packed bus. Folks with walkers, both men and women; an old guy who had a huge shopping cart whose talk was of his Korean War days, a darling little solemn faced baby in his stroller whose Mom was overseeing the placement of her three other little ones, the washed and the unwashed, all blending in together.

The little man, whose vantage point was of legs; some covered by slacks, some not covered at all, seemed to be surveying his domain with resignation as the bus lurched on. It would have been interesting to know what the little guy thought as he sat there so quietly and patiently.

Due to the humid air, the smells in the bus were "special". So special that I would have liked to have gotten off but I wanted to go down to Ottawa Street and the Barton bus is the vehicle available to me.

Mind you, in spite of the crowded conditions, I saw some lovely acts of kindness done for those who were disabled and for some elderly frail people. That made the day right for me.

It was also a joy to see the young mother and her darling little chap, along with her three other children get off on Ottawa Street and meet her friend, who also had a baby and another child with her.

A day of window shopping, or perhaps even shopping? Who knows, but it was grand to see the happiness of this rendezvous.

Ottawa Street is a worthwhile experience just to walk around down there. Fabric shops, a jewellery supply shop, a bedding shop, and the list could go on and on....

To say the least, going down to Ottawa Street on the Barton bus is an experience and one worthy of either of poem or a one act play! I wonder if the mood will strike me to write a poem about it?