Backus Packus Breakus Windows

Continuing with the recent backpack themed stories, here's one from Erik:

I was riding a half empty 11 down Portage Avenue several years ago. It was summer. It was hot and the bus had no air conditioning.

There was an annoying fly flying around the bus, landing on sticky, sweaty people causing them to pause from fanning themselves to brush the fly away.

There was one woman sitting up at the front in the sideways seats who was more skittish with the fly. She swatted furiously at it whenever it got near. Eventually it landed on the window next to her so she swung the large backpack that she was holding at it, trying to squish it on the window. She missed.

Her backpack must have contained something big and heavy because when it hit the window it made an incredible bang. It cracked the window in several places. The bus driver hit the brakes, leaned back and asked, "What the hell was that? I thought someone threw a brick at us!"

The woman hugged her backpack closer and got off the bus at the next stop with her head down. The fly continued to buzz around the bus landing on the sweaty, sticky people and the broken window.

Backus Packus Breakus Bones

This story seems to be in a continuing series of stories about people paranoid of backpacks. Here's an anonymous story about one such event:

This is probably the most boring story ever. I get on the 11 to go home from class last week and I had one of those shoulder bags where the flap occasionally flips open. The bus was packed because it was just after 5, so I stand in the very corner near the flip up wheel chair seats.

Beside me, there's a woman who appears to be 80-85 talking to a man about the same age about how "mothers with strollers get respect on the bus but old folks with walkers and canes don't." (She happened to have neither.)

So the bus stops and slap of my bag swings forward and his this woman's knee. She goes "That girl's bag must way 20 pounds and hit my fractured knee!" Everyone watching knew it didn't so I just ignored her.

The second time, the bus stops and the flap hits her leg again so I go to hold it closed. She goes "Excuse me, I already have a fractured rib, I don't need a fractured knee!"

Well, I had to get off at that point because everyone was staring at me and I was embarrassed as fuck.

Backus Packus Smackus

Heather seems to have the same affliction as myself: being a weirdo magnet.

This incident actually resulted in me calling 311 to demand security guards placed on certain routes.
Addicts on the bus seem to plague me. Me and my daughter were heading home on the 47, I was sitting in the seat next to the stairs. This girl and her friend (I think it was her friend) sat in the seats next to me. This girl who sat closest to me must have been tripping out on drugs: she was shaking, constantly rummaging through her back pack, frantic about finding something. I couldn't help but glance, and make sure she wasn't going to wig out on me. I was just looking around out the windows. Apparently, to addicts, you can't even look slightly in their direction. "STOP STARING AT ME" she yelled at me. I didn't even know what to do. This girl was like a wild animal. I was afraid of making any sudden movements. She was so paranoid. She flinched and raised her hand everytime someone whisked past her or made a loud sound: like a laugh. The part that really scared me was when she got off the bus: she stood up and slammed her back pack into me and acted as if she didn't do anything or she didn't care. The scarier part was that there could have been needles in her back pack that may have poked me