winter bus symdrome

I walked on the bus,
empty seats-
were avaliable in the back.
I always coordinate
my location on the bus
to which door
I prefer to exit
when I reach my destination.
back seats
always-
mean I will exit
through the back door.
I was listening to loud music
distracted by time
always-
late to work
the back door did not open
on account
of the giant snowbank.
before I would walk
steps of forgivness,
the lady who directed
this sea of people
on this blustering mobile box,
started to yell,
not just yell,
but more or less screech.
the wench probably intended
to have my fellow passengers,
strangers-
to be a captive audience
as I strolled out the front door,
she lectured me.
I am aware by this time,
that I should have known better,
this stop has been consistent for me,
snow had fallen,
previously, I have made the same mistake
trying to open the door
which on Kilbourn and Jackson-
is guarded by a large,
icy snowbank
but honestly...
she has never known
I have made this mistake
and have been too
careless to correct myself
A lecture?
A fucking lecture?
If she wanted me to apply more logic in my life,
she could tell me to get a better job
and buy a stupid car
In fact,
I paid two dollars to take the bus that day,
I paid a quarter extra.
What did that get me?
A lecture.
A fucking lecture.
Merry Christmas to you too,
Milwaukee County Transit System.