Down goes my coffee

Recently, I had my worst transit experience (if not general experience) thus far. It was early Thursday morning, and I rushed out the door to catch an early train to Long Island City (A part of Queens where I am teaching summer school). Ordinarily I would take the 7 train from 82nd to 74th and then transfer to the F. Feeling adventurous, I decided to hop on bus Q33 and ride to 74th.

This would have been quite manageable had my cup of coffee been fitted with a lid. What follows, as you might be deducing, is purely my fault. Observing bus etiquette (which I will address in a later post), I took my spot standing next to the handicap seating (stop reading now if you want to maintain respect for me). All was fine for the majority of the ride until I became convinced of my abilities to defy physics.

In my left hand I held the coffee, right hand I held the pole, and my ipod was in my pocket. Displeased with the song, I decided to try and change it. But how to accomplish this maneuver, you ask?

I placed said coffee in my right hand while trying to hold the pole as well! Dumb move.

Needless to say, when the bus came to an abrupt stop, as buses do, I lost my balance. So did my coffee. This would not have been so bad had there not been a row of people sitting in the seats near me. I can only say that there was very little coffee left to drink in the cup. To my horror, I looked down to see a middle aged woman in, yes you guessed it, white pants. Aghast with embarrassment, I mumbled through an unintelligible apology, but found her unresponsive. I offered to pay her, but she would acknowledge nothing I said. It was then that her inability to speak English hit me. As the bus rolled to the stop, she started fuming in some foreign tongue, made no eye contact with me, and walked out of my life. I stumbled off the bus in a cloud of shame and evil stares from all who witnessed my transgression.

It still makes me sick to think of how I ruined this not so well-to-do ladies’ nice white work pants. Dante must’ve left out the canto about people who spill coffee on others getting chewed up next to Judas Isacariot.