I’m a sucker for a good deal. My house is cluttered with various trinkets I’ve picked up over the years, all at horrendously low prices I just couldn’t resist. My yard is full of free fill dirt and bricks from craigslist​.com, and while I don’t exactly read my subscription to Ladies’ Home Journal, at 71 cents per issue it’s a steal. My diet these days consists primarily of those ZonePerfect bars they give you free at Bumbershoot, and every so often I stumble upon a McDonald’s dollar menu bacon cheeseburger. Which is particularly bothersome because they took that off the dollar menu in like, 2006.

Anyway, when I went to orientation and found out they were giving me a King County Metro pass, it was a bargain I couldn’t pass up. Why spend money on gas and convenient transportation when I can ride the bus FO’ FREE?

With that flawless logic, before I knew it I was standing at the bus stop on the corner of 23rd and Union, Metro Bus pass in hand. Accompanying me was my trusty sidekick, Clifford “Sunshine” Rostomily. Sunshine, the poor guy, had gotten disoriented and had somehow failed to come away with a pass. So as I happily prepared to board the bus at no expense, his pockets jingled more sounds of change (SPOILER: POLITICAL JOKE) than a Barack Obama campaign ad.

We waited a long time, and then it got dark. “Be careful,” my father had warned me. “A lot of crazies ride the bus, especially at night.” But was I scared? Heck no! I’m a Garfield Bulldog! I’m down with homies from all ‘round the town! I got bros in different area codes! I even talk in Bay Area slang sometimes! Anybody looking for beef had better find the nearest cattle farm, because they sure don’t want to mess with me! In addition, I was accompanied by Sunshine, who is well-versed in wrestling moves.

When the number 12 finally pulled up, Sunshine and I boarded eagerly. I was excited to infiltrate what I imagined was an elaborate social network of hipster eco-friendly antiestablishment public transit-takers. A nice man talking on his cellular phone flashed us a friendly grin. “Great!” I thought. “He can be my first bus acquaintance!” I could only hope that my partner would act cool and not ruin my chance at friendship.

The man had bleached-blond hair and wore earrings in each lobe. He wore tattered pants and a long jacket. As we walked down the aisle and took the seats across from him, his conversation became more audible. His voice was high and his words slurred together to make each sentence one single entity.

“Yeah, I got out of prison a little while ago. But since then I’ve still got two pending assault charges…” he trailed off. “I know they’ll catch up to me eventually, it’s just a matter of time until I go back.”

Two minutes spent on my first ride with the new bus pass, and already I had met my first criminal! It’s nice to know that nine long months of safe and secure bus rides await us students.

Sunshine and I could have given up on our adventure right then and there. It would have been easy to retreat to our respective houses for a long night of Facebook photo albums and microwavable snacks. But we were feeling reckless. He is no stranger to violent crime and murder, being an avid player of Grand Theft Auto IV. And as for me, I was already immersed in a criminal mindset from using my September bus pass on that August evening.

So we rode on, and talked with our new friend, whose name was Billy. “I kicked a cop in the balls,” he told us. “And I got in a knife fight with my ex-girlfriend. That was like 30 minutes ago.” Billy didn’t seem to be very respectful of women. He told us another story about a party he went to, when a different ex-girlfriend of his was in attendance. Billy drank too much. Then he sprayed his ex with mace from across the room. “It was like, the length of this bus. That stuff is super accurate!”

In case we didn’t believe his stories, he made sure to show us his mace. And his knife. And his pipe.
And his drugs.

When Billy stumbled off the bus to go to his uncle’s house (he couldn’t sleep at home anymore because the cops knew where he lived), Sunshine and I followed. I’m done with public transportation for a little while. Like until we run out of oil. I’m not saying Billy scared me or anything. It’s the seats. The seats on the bus are uncomfortable.