Getting all Bussied Up

I think it’s time that folks from Chicago, New York and Philly get out to the West coast to teach us Angelenos the ways of public transportation. With Los Angeles being a huge sprawled-out concrete jungle and gas prices roaring high, for those interested in saving their wallet and the environment, Los Angeles doesn’t offer too many choices. Car pools in some dude’s Porsche coupe? Nah. The metro (yeah, Los Angeles actually does have one!). Nope; it only branches out to a few select areas of mighty LA. The bus?

Yes. The Bus. Dah Bus.

Of course, I speak of all of this as though it’s my problem. I have barely a 1.5 mile drive to work and I fill up my car merely once a month. I would walk to work if I didn’t have to walk past the U-Haul rental center where a bunch of shady dudes (20 of ‘em!) line up each day for some hardcore labor and cat call to the occasional passerby; and on the other side of the street a pack of homeless folks sleep and rummage about. I could ride my beach cruiser to work if I didn’t think I might get jumped later for looking so damn dorky. But for other excursions and weekend adventures…yes…there’s…Dah Bus.

Roomie Deux (as opposed to the original Roomie, the OG) and I are fascinated by this concept. Roomie Deux’s boyfriend takes the bus from Santa Monica to work downtown. He saves the atrocious parking fees of the city and can zone out on the bus with a book, music or nap. Last weekend, he and Roomie Deux took the bus from the beach to my beloved LACMA for a buck-fifty each, round trip. Roomie Deux reported that, other than the occasional complaint and holla from someone stuck in an undesirable location, it wasn’t too bad.

Now, my experience with public transportation varies. In NYC and DC, I’m all about the train. I whiz on it like a kid on a merry go-round. In Chicago my first experience with the train was waiting for the train to arrive and seeing a homeless man fall into the tracks as the locals took cell phone pictures and laughed. I have since ridden the “El” there and it’s been far more peaceful. In San Francisco I take BART into the city (although usually the wrong way a couple times before I get it right). I did take the San Fran bus once, since I was there on a weekend a few years back and I am all about “being local” when I visit a new city. But ooze from a bum’s garbage bag leaked onto my leg and that sorta tainted the ride for me. Taxi!

In Brentwood I can walk most places. Last night Roomie Deux, a Maryland Chick and I walked 30-minutes to one of my favorite Mexican joints on the border of Brentwood and Santa Monica. We walk to the bars. We walk to restaurants, the library, my hair place, dry cleaners, yadda yadda.

But Roomie Deux and I are determined to take Dah Bus. We’re going to a 4-course wine tasting dinner in a few weeks in Westwood and we’ll be bussin’ it. We’re also going to try to take Dah Bus to a bar or two the next weekend I am home, but of course, we’re sticking to West LA and we’ll bring her 6’6” boyfriend for the first ride.