Bus Passes Should Be Issued With Mandatory Psychiatric Reviews.

It's a widely accepted fact that people who ride the bus are completely bat shit crazy. No one's disputing this, in fact when I sit down on the bus I take a quick survey of the people sitting around me and assess them as possible threats. I sit down and try to puff out my chest like a mexican fighting cock whilst putting on my best "Don't Fuck With Me" face. Out of the six or seven people surrounding me I pick out the ones most likely to be cannibals, or crazy people and those who are weak and docile in nature. I then make a quick mental calculation of the best geographical position to be in; in case either of the former decide to lash out so that I might appease them by flinging the latter at them as I make good my escape, like a tribal Mayan offering up a sacrifice to my vengeful demigods, this is how I ride the bus.
The most intimidating member of the bussing community however is the talkers, not the loud obnoxious teenagers prattling on about their last math test. I'm referring to the ones that will frequently present those around them with hypotheticals pertaining to what they would do if they were offered happiness, eternal happiness, or perhaps they will try and tell you about their evening spent sifting the demons out of their socks so that they would once more be able to watch VH1. Or maybe you will spy them drawing circles over and over again in their gigantic notebook. For the incredibly lucky watcher there will occasionaly be the treat of watching one pick his nose, contemplate it for a second or two and then quickly lodge his treasure back where it came from, then looking around with a face that is meant to say, "Gonna save THAT one for later!" to the rest of the horrified passengers.
Sadly, this is my 4th time riding the bus after an absence of as many years and I've already seen and catalogued at least a dozen of these rare specimens.
These people are either entirely insane or insanely genius. These are the people that will one day colonize the moon, not by choice, but because the rest of humanity will become tired of pretending we care and will ship them off so that they might form their own so golden age of knowledge, while we fly by once every week to shoot a crate of supplies at them and then speedily fly back to the world we have created. A world that is one step closer to Utopia.