Yesterday, as I boarded the G bus, a woman got up from the senior citizen seats and moved, so I thought she was giving up her seat to me, and I settled in gratefully.

I realized, once I sat down, that she had actually moved because of the two loud white guys taking up the other senior seats on that side. They were having one of those unsteady, angry, careful conversations that people have when the world is hard and the intoxicants don’t make the bad feelings go away. A loud, hoarse voice with a bit of a whine in it was coming from the big messy one, and a slightly placatory (but almost as loud) response from the other, who had one arm in spasm, so he looked like he was half praying mantis.

Mantis nudged me with his elbow a couple of times while they were talking, in fact, so even though he wasn’t doing it on purpose, I moved across the aisle.

Finally, Mantis got up, staring grimly ahead of him, his arm hitched up, and waited for the bus to stop so he could get off, while the other was pleading angrily, “No offense. No offense.”

Now the loud whiner switched his attention to another big white guy, who had taken my vacant seat. The new guy looked to be in his fifties and down on his luck, but was not (currently) drug-affected. They quickly established a basis for conversation. “I’m in the shelter at 8th and Girard,” said Messy. 

“I’m in the one on 9th,” said Fifties. Messy started complaining loudly, in his wavering, out of tune voice, about being given only an hour to get out of his room and go to another shelter. It was not fair. I agreed that it was not fair. None of it is fair.

Fifties gave him the minimum interaction, not meeting his eyes, just uttering monosyllables. Then Fifties got off the bus, too, quickly and efficiently so that Messy couldn’t start saying, “No offense.” My stop came before the loud man could decide to switch his attention to me.

In my twenties, I was a lost soul, messed up, lonely, and drunk all the time. I learned early not to get into conversations with someone who keeps saying, “No offense,” though. Someone’s going to get hurt when that gets said, and I would rather it not be me.