Real IndyGo Women of Genius
Imagine this in the Bud Light talking/singing announcer guy voice…
Here’s to you Miss I am reading a paperback novel and sprawled out over two seats on the IndyGo girls. Don’t worry that other people are standing instead of sitting. Pretend to not see the old ladies wanting to sit in the front seats. Don’t make eye contact with anyone in hopes of keeping both seats to yourself. That’s right, Miss paperback novel reading spread out over two seats selfish IndyGo girl.
If you couldn’t tell, I am disappointed in the people who act like they own both seats on the bus. Share.
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2 comments:
Today we salute you Miss I Complain About People On The IndyGo Bus Girl. It's not enough that you've found an inexpensive ride to work on a bus (*gas is expensive*). No, now you want to complain about people you wouldn't otherwise think twice about talking to (*I'm prettier than you*). So, sit back, and have a nice cold bud light oh high and mighty IndyGoer (*don't drink and drive*).
Anheiser-Busch, St. Lou... nay... InBev Anheiser-Busch, Leuven, Belgium
The blog really does exist?! This proactive approach to indygo is one I had not seen. The conversations I had been accustomed to having on the bus or around the bus stops usually comprised of questions like, "Hey buddy, I'll sell you a brand new knife for $5" or "You ever play dominoes?" Now these are fine questions and all (does anyone actually play dominoes?), but one tends to just stop talking after a while. So when someone starts talking to me at the bus stop again, well, I'm waiting for dialogs along the lines of, "Do you know why the aliens stole my pajamas?" Turns out, it's this blogger right here.
Now, we apparently need to talk about some anger issues as I can just see you getting more irritated as you continue to watch the girl reading her novel. Or you can explain to me how to survive a gentleman who sits next to you with about 40 liters of cologne on which then makes you feel that you are going to either: 1. Start crying on the bus and ask to go home or 2. Start wiping the man down with whatever you have to get the smell off of him.
Either way, no one gets such visceral social experiences when they get to be anonymous in their car. So blog on and I'll drop a line here or there now that I'm pretty sure you're not going to ask for a blood sample to keep the CIA away.
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