The J Line

I take a Unitrans bus to and from campus twice everyday, for a total of four one-way trips on our campus's free transportation system. This morning, I was probably about the third person at my bus stop. I like to get their early, I don't really know why.
I watched as groups of students emerged from different apartment complexes and made their way to the bus stop, most off in their own little i-pod world, blank looks on their faces, a sense of resignation in their gait. I too was miserable, the heat was oppressive and the smoky, humid air made me feel like I was breathing sludge. All of the waiters stood evenly spaced apart, as if the body heat from their neighbor might just push them over the edge of they got too close. No one made eye contact, no one spoke. One girl walked up, happily chatting on her cell phone, and half the group glared at her, the other half pretended not to notice, or perhaps they really didn't. We stood there for what seemed like forever, but in a suspended kind of way, it was like time held its breath, too hot and tired to continue. The group had grown to about thirty students, no families or retirees as there sometimes are, they had the sense to stay home. When the bus finally arrived, the neatly spaced group immediately condensed, imploding on itself at a startling speed, and crowded the entry door. We silently filed on, somehow submitting to our animal instincts and patiently taking our turns to step on. Everyone found a seat, a rarity on the J line. As soon as they were seated, each student either stared out the window or at the floor with an empty expression, or haphazardly flipped through an intimidating looking textbook, displaying countless charts, diagrams and other unexplainable drawings. Internally, I reaffirmed my love of the Humanities. The girl on the cell phone was still talking, and much too loudly. She laughed, an abrasive and startling laugh, and I exchanged a smile and an eyebrow raise with the girl sitting in the corner. I thought she might stay aware, but she quickly pulled out her headphones and disappeared. I wanted to read so I could vanish too, but I couldn't concentrate, something about the whole situation seemed to scatter my thoughts. Everyone else was so focused in their own internal realm, and I felt like I couldn't find mine. It reminded me of a time when I was on a plane in the middle of a red-eye flight and everyone was sleeping but me through a crazy thunderstorm. Anyway, we pulled up to the terminal at the MU, and everyone got up without a word. Like zombies, we got off the bus, dispersing in all directions. The bus is a sort of Limbo, a place between places. There are no tvs, no laptops, no discussion. Everyone seems to be in suspend mode, and when they get off, life begins again.