Calling shotgun on the bus

Public transportation if observed correctly is an accurate example of society. Though it's a microcosm of everyday life it paints a vivid picture of the fruitcakes we live among. I am not exempt from this observation though I view myself as more a flake than fruitcake.
It's Friday and Huck, that's me, decides to ride the bus. My first thought, as the bus approaches is , can one call shotgun riding a bus? And if you do call shotgun where is the proper seat once acknowledged as the valid shotgunner? And who delegates authority concerning seat placement? Would it be the bus driver, or the toughest rider? Shouldn't it be the patron forced to ride the bus most frequently? At this point I hear this hiss of hydrolic brakes and the door opens. The operator notices me directly and just shakes his head. "How much?",I ask., "Two and a quarter." He replies.
"Two and what!? I only have a buck fifty. Will that do?" The driver's name is Gabe. I know this because I ride daily. I ask Gabe the same question everyday and at first he laughed. Now I have the feeling Gabe would kill me if given the right circumstances. As usual I find a seat in the back. Walking down the sticky isle a thought pops in my head. Should I call out, "SHOTGUN!",? What would happen? Ipods, laptops and cell phones have been invented to help ignore the likes of me. I am a disruption and distraction. Reason should be amended. Common sense is boring and misrepresented. I will be the Thomas Paine of public transportation. Today I will call shotgun dammit!

Although there is more to the story, I have become quite bored and will end this item. If you would like to know the result of my experience ride a bus and call shotgun. I already know how to make a shit sandwich.