My Hobbesian Bus Stop
This may be a little different than what the Professor expects, but I enjoyed writing it and if it gets me the credit that would be great!
When I finally get out of my last class of the day I hurriedly make my to the C.C. little bus stop, I cringe as I see a huge cluster of students already waiting, just as desperate as I am to get back to our dorms on North Campus to get an early start on homework; hoping to get it done at a reasonable time today. I know its’ going to be nearly impossible to get on the first Bursley-Baits bus, there’s way to many students here to pack onto one, maybe even too many to fit onto two buses; and, of course, I’m at the back of the mob.
I quickly do the math in my head, one bus every ten minutes; I’m not going to get on the first bus, and maybe not the second. It could easily be 20+ minutes before I get on a bus, and it’s the first true day a fall, high of 50 degrees with a strong breeze and of course I’m way to tough to wear a sweater, let alone a jacket. No, I tell myself I must get on this bus. After a few minutes of suffering the cold, I see that familiar and friendly big blue bus with Bursley-Baits lit up on the top round the corner. I hear a harmony of anxious and relieved gasps erupt from my fellow students. This is where the State of Nature begins.
The mobs split in two, people rush to the spot where they believe the doors will be once the bus stops. Fortunately, not to brag, I am a master at this particular form of art. So I lower my shoulder, keep my head down, and force my way through the cluster of other desperados to the spot I believe will give me the best opportunity to get on this bus. I may have knocked a few people around pretty good during this journey, but hey, I know they did the same to others. There is an unwritten rule known by all students in regards to the bus stop. There are no rules when it comes to getting on the bus; you have to do what you have to do. I finally hear the wretched screech of the buses brakes grind, as it shudders to a stop. And once again, I have picked the perfect spot! The bus door is right in front of me! So I start to move off the side to create a path for the students leaving the bus (of course using my body as a shield to prevent any sneaky students from slipping past me), but the students that are unfortunate enough to be at the back of the mob start to thrust forward creating a huge wave of pressure that crushes the victors of the bus stop mayhem and me into the unopened bus door. The door finally opens, but the exiting students have nowhere to go. After a moment of confusion, a short stout little lady gets a brief running start, and truck sticks her way through the mob. The rest fellow her lead, and when the last person gets off the bus, the mayhem continues as the students battle for seats. I earned myself a nice comfy window seat, and I do not regret what I had to do to get there. I was in a “condition which is called war; and such a war as is of every man against every man”. And life is “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short”, so I’m going to get on that bus, whatever it takes.