>Brought to you by Transantiago, Act Three

>Here it is, the third act of my crazy public transportation circus.

Act Three: Drunken Rowdiness to Really Bad Flute in B Flat
Scene: Micro on the Alameda, 12:00am. Eileen and I are coming back from Leigh’s goodbye party, standing in the back half of a double bus. A trio drunk men in their early 20s are talking and laughing loudly about something.

Enter Really Bad Flute Player. He starts to play a rendition of Tabaco y Chanel by Bacilos.

Eileen: He’s one of the worst I’ve heard.
Me: Worst flute player or worst bus performer?
Eileen: You’ve seen worse?
Me: Yes, worse singers. Who clap.

Trio of drunk men really like RBFP. They attentively pay attention to him and clap along to his “music”. RBFP finishes playing and asks for money. The trio of drunk men don’t give him any. Neither do many other people.

Eileen: I’m getting off at the next stop.
Me: Okay.

One of the trio stands up in his seat and starts making some sort of “announcement” to the rest of the bus.

Eileen (worried): Text me when you get home.
Me: Yeah, of course.

Eileen gets off the bus, I go sit towards the front of the bus next to a sleeping old man.

Bus approaches Plaza Italia and one of the trio goes running up to the bus driver, followed by another member of his cohort, tripping and laughing down the aisle. Then they run back and tell their friend something, then the last one runs up to the bus driver, then they all get off at the next stop. With all the commotion, sleeping old man wakes up.

SOM: ¿Dónde estamos?
Me: En la Plaza Italia.
SOM: ¿Plaza Italia? ¿En Providencia?
Me: Sí.
SOM: Chuuuuuu, me pasé pero caleta. ¡Me quedé dormido!
Me: Pucha. Que le vaya bien.

SOM gets off the bus and Creepy McCreepster moves from the back to sit across the aisle from me. He stares at me and smiles creepishly. Three youngish men approach the door to get off at the next stop. I take one look at Creepy McCreepster (who is still staring) and at the last possible moment, get off the bus with the three men near Salvador with Providencia. I take a taxi the rest of the way home and text Eileen, who has also made it home safe and sound.

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