So, for a while, I've been contemplating moving to the west coast. From what I hear, it's a lot more laid back and upbeat than the manic, bitter northeast, where I've spent my entire life. I suppose it's not that terrible in the spring and summer, but once the temperature drops below 35, and every day is either gray, rainy, snowy (or all of the above), the attitudes of just about everyone become ridiculously unpleasant.
This morning, I awoke to see that we were going to reach our highest temperature of the week (a balmy 35 degrees), as well as receive a good dose of "wintry mix" (a sweet Robert Frost-esque way to describe simultaneous rain, sleet, and snow). Wonderful. I also awoke to see that my room was a mess, because apparently when I came home from my company's holiday party last night (and enjoying a few cocktails of Christmas cheer), I decided to do a little "redecorating". Brilliant. This day had the potential to become one of the most miserable days ever.
After walking, slipping, stumbling, and almost falling flat on my face as I walked along the ice- and slush-lined sidewalks of Cambridge, I finally reached that great beacon of humanity: the bus stop at Kendall Square. As I envisioned, all of my commute-buddies had perma-pouts on their faces, mad because they had to go to work, frustrated that its almost-but-not-quite the weekend, and depressed that the weather has been craptastic all week. "Ahh yes, the beginning of a wonderful day", I thought to myself.
Twenty minutes go by. No bus. This wasn't really anything out of the ordinary; the CT2 bus schedule is quite possibly the least reliable schedule on the planet. Thirty minutes go by. I'm a little aggravated, since one bus is supposed to come every 20 minutes, but again, this is not the first time this has happened. People are getting visibly perturbed, walking out from under the roof of the bus stop; demeanors are changing from listless boredom to slightly irritated restlessness. Forty five minutes go by; the bus comes! Oh wait, no... the banner on the side says "OUT OF SERVICE". Lovely. Groans of "Are you kidding me?!" and "It's been almost a friggin' hour! When's this damn bus gonna take me to a job I sure as hell don't wanna go to?"
And then, something surprising happened: people started laughing. Other people chimed in: "If I wanted to wait this long for a ride, I would've stayed home with my wife!" "It didn't take the Sox this long to win the World Series!" "Yeah, this bus is never coming is it?" (the last guy wasn't that clever... think Brick, from Anchorman... but he wanted to join in with the group... no complaints from the crowd.) Somehow, a combination of cold temperature, miserable weather, and a late bus was able to lift the spirits of crazy, bitter northeasterners and turn them into friendly, amicable people.
After the bus came, 61 minutes after its scheduled arrival, it was greeted with a thundering round of applause. And I ended up having the most enjoyable commute to work that I've ever had. Strangers were talking to each on the bus, commiserating about how much trouble they're going to get into at work for being an hour late. People actually said "excuse me" when they were passing down the aisle to exit the bus. And just about every person had a smile on their face.
Who needs southern California when you've got gray, dreary, rainy Boston?
(I do, but still... fun times.)
