This past winter, I'd take the bus rather than walk even relatively short distances in the city. This was simply because it was bone-cracking cold outside, and precipitation was often a factor. Now, if you are an able bodied Milwaukee citizen, you are supposed to take a seat farther back in the bus, to make room for the disabled persons and seniors. Even though, on the night I write of, there were vacant seats behind the reserved seating at the front of the bus, I would have had to sit beside a stranger. With plenty of leg room, I took up a seat marked with a wheelchair symbol and soaked in some of the warmth of the heated bus interior.
It had taken me a bit of time to become savvy with taking the bus from destination to destination in the city. I had to learn landmarks, street names, and intersections, as well as what routes the bus numbers referred to. There was a girl sitting even closer to the driver, looking a bit nervous. She had on a small amount of blush, or perhaps it was the cold of February, but probably not. She was short, her light, skin-tight blue jean clad legs dangling from the seat. She wore a white polymer winter jacket, white shoes (swaying above the floor), and thin-rimmed glasses. She was cute--I guess cute in a metropolitan-newbie college student sort-of way, probably not much older than eighteen.
It turned out she was fairly lost. I find it probable some friends directed her to take this bus from the deep east side to her street in north downtown. She knew if she found a certain landmark, the Kern Center, she could find her way home, she told the bus driver.
I know how it can be when asking for directions or help in general. I often take the response and dismiss the party from helping me, even if I am still unclear on the instructions. In the case of the girl and the bus driver, she might not have wanted to distract him too much, and just remained lost, even after he gave his advice. She went back to nervously fidgeting, and glancing at the bus driver as if she wasn't sure if she should bother him more.
I happened to know that the bus went right by the Kern Center, so I told her to stay on the bus. She beamed at me, and showed the large amount of correction her glasses gave--her eyes were huge behind the lenses. Affirmation that one is not as lost as first thought can be very relieving, and I was glad to help. She thanked me, and fiddled with her IPod a little.
The only thing I didn't think of is that if she didn't see the Kern Center from the far side of the bus, where she sat, she might miss her stop. Oh well, what better way to learn the bus system of Milwaukee than to find oneself in the Calico ghetto, where I suspect the bus was headed.
