April 13, 2006

Bus Chick: Transit Authority
Bus Chick Preparedness

By Carla Saulter

Any bus chick who has been riding for more than a week knows to wear shoes that are both cute and comfortable (alas, usually not quite as cute as comfortable); to layer clothing; and to never, ever leave home without her bus chick bag.

The bus chick bag usually contains the necessities that most women carry in a purse (wallet, lotion, cell phone), but it also contains many bus-chick-specific items (more on these later). Bus chick bags are not a particular style — they range from backpack to woven satchel to soft-sided briefcase. The most common is the backpack, for its durability and ease of use. It’s not the most style-conscious choice, but we bus chicks aren’t always the most style-conscious of people. I carried a backpack until last year, when I decided that cute was more important than practical and bought a soft-sided briefcase that I can strap across my chest. Except under the most extreme of circumstances, I don’t leave home without it.

Along with the standards (laptop, bus pass, cell phone, book, umbrella), my bus chick bag contains many items that can come in handy in a pinch: snacks, dollar bills for Real Change purchases (seriously), and an empty plastic bag for weather-related hair emergencies that are beyond the capabilities of the average umbrella. And the bus chick bag doesn’t stop there. Once, my intended needed to make an ATM deposit, but the envelope the bank provided wouldn't stay closed. Luckily, there was a glue stick in the outside pocket of the bus chick bag. Problem solved.

Recently, I had to go to the local Red Cross office to conduct an interview. The office is several blocks away from the nearest bus stop, so I had to wander a bit to find it. When I was a minute away from being late, I spotted the big, warehouse-looking building.

Folks, the building wasn't the only thing that got spotted that afternoon.

As I hurried down the sidewalk, I felt something drip onto the lapel on my coat. Despite the cloudless sky and the weighty feel of the substance in question, I convinced myself it was a raindrop. Then I looked down. There it was: the disaster I had been dreading since my friend Rachel was victimized during afternoon recess in first grade: a big, rapidly hardening, brown-in-the-center, white-at-the-outside splotch of bird doo.

Thank goodness for the bus chick bag. On that particular day, it fortunately contained a large wad of tissue (allergy season) and some handy antibacterial gel. Mess removed, hands disinfected, I was able to conduct the interview without anyone from the King County disaster response team being the wiser.

Shoot, I could probably teach those people a thing or two. n