I don't think it worked

I'm knackered. I'm not sure if that workout was a good or bad idea. I think I will go to bed shortly. I took some more vitamin C, too.
Okay, I was going to tell you the fun story of my bus ride into Vancouver a couple of weekends ago. I still can't believe I didn't blog about that. I blog about, like, random people I see on the elevator, but I failed to mention the ride from hell into Vancouver.
Anyways, I catch the #240 from North Van which will take me downtown Vancouver (oh, goddamn, I just remembered another interesting story that happened when I got on the second bus to take me to my mom's). It's not too busy and I grab a seat at the back of the bus cause I can rest my legs on the back of the seats perpendicular to me. No worries. Beautiful day, enjoying the tunes, looking out the window and seriously (I'm cereal, guys - 30,000 points to anyone that gets that) I am thinking about how great life is. Then this homeless guy gets on. Okay, no problem. Homeless people are allowed to take buses too. In fact, I am always happy when the bus drivers let them ride for free. So he sits down at the back of the bus with me and there is one seat between us. He smells so, so, so bad. That's okay too because - given that he doesn't have a place to live - he probably doesn't get the chance to shower too often. At this point I have chosen to breathe through my mouth cause the smell is so overpowering, but I am fully cognisant that he is as much my responsibility as anyone else's, and I don't know the series of events that led him to be in the situation that he is currently in and furthermore: we all deserve some dignity.
Or do we?
Cause then he says, upon noticing that traffic is backed up on the Lions Gate bridge, "What the fuck is this? It's not rush hour!". Hey, I swear like a fucking sailor. On my blog. I try not to do it too much in mixed company. In fact, Newlywed Guy was like, "It's okay, you can swear, I can take it" when I was trying to explain something to him on Friday night.
Fine. He swore. Turn up the iPod a little. Then he starts doing this loud yawning thing... and takes off his shoes. Like, what? It didn't smell bad enough before? Come on. We're pushing boundaries here, people. I'm now actively willing the traffic to speed up and considering getting off at the next available stop because the smell is quite unbearable and this guy is being inconsiderate.
Apparently it wasn't to stop there. No, see, he apparently needed to take off his socks, too. Yeah. At this point I was just trying to keep the vomit from spewing out of my mouth so I didn't actually turn to see what he was doing when he hiked his foot up onto the seat next to him. He was either clipping his toenails, or he was picking his toes. Yes. I said to god/fate/karma, "Please to explain. I do not understand what I am supposed to learn from this? Patience? You gotta be fucking kidding me".
Alright. We hit Georgia. Only maybe ten minutes to go. He has put his socks and shoes back on. Then we come to a stop and he gets up and I thought hooray, he was getting off. Instead, he walks over to this Japanese lady that doesn't speak English very well and says, "Hey. Hey!" and nods his head towards another empty seat. See, like me, she was a lone person sitting with two empty seats next to her.
Utterly perplexed, she gets up and sits where the homeless man has indicated she should sit. And then he promptly lies down, stretching out on all three seats.
Yeah. That's my homeless guy story. I am pleased to say it is abnormality and stuff like this is almost non-existent. But what a fucking jerk. And then it starts the whole discussion of: what kind of a mood would you be in if you thought society had failed you and you were dirty and bitter and poor and were living in one of the most expensive cities in Canada and what some people spent on coffee in one day was your food budget? It gets tricky, see.
So then I hope the #10 to take me up Granville and I saw this guy that lived in a building across the alley from me when I lived in Kerrisdale. I used to see him all over Kerrisdale. He's mentally challenged and is kind of erratic and because he's like 6'3" and really large he can be quite intimidating, but he's always been nice. I used to see him on the bus when I would come home from work and he would engage in conversations with people and he knew a lot about politics and history. It was actually pretty surreal.
Anyways, I saw him a couple of weeks ago at the coffee shop I sometimes go to. And then on this random Monday I saw him on the bus as I was going to my mom's. Stuff like that makes me wonder. Like, what are the odds that I would just happen to see this guy that I lived in the same neighbourhood as a year ago? That I would just happen to get on the same bus that he was on. A bus that runs every 15 or so minutes. On this particular day.
Perhaps it was just supposed to be a juxtaposition with the prior bus ride. Or a reminder of where I came from. Or it was meant to point out that there are some disadvantaged members of our society that are being well looked after and are nice when you meet them.
I can't rightly tell.
So that's my story.