Confessions of a Bus Starer

I am a bus starer. There's no point in denying it anymore. If you are on any mode of public transportation and I end up in your vicinity on said public transport, I will inevitably stare at you at some juncture in our ride. It doesnt mean we went to junior high together, or that I want to have sex with you and want your babies, or even that there is anything particularly interesting about you at all. I'm just a bus starer, and there's nothing I can do about it. I know its rude; there was another bus starer on Bart one time and she stared at me and I found it quite rude and intrusive. But I knew it wasnt personal and that she was a bus starer when I secretly stared back and saw her doing it to other people on the DL out of the corner of her eye. I always try to stop but can never quite manage. Because you miss things. Interesting things, funny things, really weird things. Like the older asian man on the inbound 39 this morning that scooted over into the seat next to him that had just been vacated two seconds before by a hipster with quite the 5 oclock shadow. As the older man scooted over, he haphazardly waved his hand over the plastic seat as if to ward off any lingering invisible hipster schmutz that may have been deposited onto it by said hipsters' relatively clean-looking woolen gray jacket. It made me happy all day, thinking about that split-second hand-waving gesture.

So the moral of the story is that I JUST CANT STOP. Why you ask? Beacuse I am neurotic and insane, that's why. I am just a bus starer. Leave me alone.