So, a big part of city livin’ is taking public transportation and some days it can be smooth sailing. Other days, not so much. I know it’s a $2 ride but I think it’s time we start implementing some rules because it is clear to me that the Muni is a lot like the wild wild west; every man for himself.

Rule #1: All riders must be conscious.

This one is pretty cut and dry. Your ass better be awake for the entire ride or you’re outta there. This happened behind me on my ride home from work. If my rules were in place, he would be given a lollipop and asked to leave. Everyone goes home happy- he gets a little treat and we get the rest of the ride not having to position him back into place.

Rule #2: Cooking is for the Kitchen.

I didn’t take a photo of this one but trust me when I tell you a man sat next to me on the bus and took out two slices of WonderBread from his backpack. He then took out 4 packets of mayonnaise and proceeded to spread it on thick to create a disgusting ass mayonnaise sandwich. He took a bite and while chewing turned to me and asked, “would you like some?” Needless to say, I declined. Yes, it was thoughtful and yes, it tested my gag reflexes but please just wait until you’re at home to pull out the condiments. Thanks.

Rule #3: Double Decker Bus Style Please.

If we had double decker trains, scenarios like this wouldn’t happen. I would prefer to read my magazine in peace, not underneath a Mr. Clean look-a-like. But I would take this over a mayo sandwich any day.

Rule #4: Quit Hatin’, You Hater.

I’m not trying to say that everyone who rides public transportation should be wearing Gucci furs (Neiman Marcus example above with security  wires still attached to the fur to prove I don’t own something this ridiculous). In fact, I like riding the bus with all kinds of people as long as you bathe regularly, don’t breathe on me, and keep your hands where I can see ’em.

I feel like if my rules were followed we would all get places faster, make more money, and be overall more jolly. In actuality there will just be less horror stories for me to exchange with my friends, so I don’t know what is worse- having a stinky co-passenger or having no stories to tell. I guess I’ll take the stories for now.