It's a love and hate relationship between you and me, Bus 156. I wait for you, you leave me, I curse you, you help me - when will the pain stop?
When the romance does.
Outside my work, you reliably pick me up even when you're ten minutes late. On my way, if I'm lucky, I can catch you - or be forced to wait for you, for the simple pleasure of you dropping me off to work so that everyone can see who I belong to.
You take me right to my college doorsteps without me having to make a fuss or a transfer... even if it's thirty minutes longer than the "Orange Line".
I love you because you drive by all the coolspots in L.A. and I hate you because you never stop at them for me. Why, 156? Why?
Thus we will be like this until the end of time. Or until I find someone better. read more