The shuttle ride to New Haven is a special privilege that only Quinnipiac students get to enjoy. The bus is almost an event in itself, and like Forrest Gump would say, “You never know what you’re gonna get.” However, no matter what number you get handed out of that bucket, I assure you, you will run into at least one of these characters on the shuttle.
The girl who has lost her Q-Card (or wallet or cell phone or voice volume control): Insert whatever valuable you deem appropriate and this girl is desperately looking for it. She is easy to spot and generally appears on the shuttle ride back; however, things tend to get disorderly between departing from Hamden and arriving in New Haven. Her head will be between her legs or she may be kneeling on the ground in search of the item that has undoubtedly rolled to the back of the bus. But this girl does not lose hope that this is her lucky night, her Q-Card must have gotten stuck to a sticky spot on the floor and is only a grasp away. And you start to believe in her enthusiastic search, because you too start looking under your seat and down the aisles.
That kid with the camera: There is an unspoken rule of shuttle etiquette that camera flashes are prohibited because they temporarily blind the drivers. There is generally one kid who seemed to miss that memo. I always cringe when I see a flash go off in the front of the bus and pray the driver didn’t notice. I’ve heard horror stories of bus drivers turning their vehicle around and bringing all the students back to QU because one narcissist couldn’t wait to take a self portrait in Toad’s.
The guy who wants to start a chant: The bus ride to New Haven can be long, and it is hard to carry on a conversation with all of the various noises. Some guys think the perfect solution to this situation is to start an obnoxious cheer for fellow males to join in. The chants are typically simple, repetitive and degrading toward women. However no matter how loudly this party-starter screams the first line, the other guys are usually too drunk to follow him and trail off in a dying mumble.
The icky couple: They seem to always end up in front of me, next to me or basically on top of me. They’re that touchy-feely, surgically glued together pair. I sometimes pray the girl will fall asleep on his shoulder so I don’t have to listen to smooches the whole way home. Am I a little envious? Possibly. Grossed out? Absolutely.
The point of no return passenger: Head down, swaying, barf bag in hand, hopefully a supportive roommate by their side. Enough said.
The hecklers: There are usually at least two of them, they like to sit in the front of the bus and watch everyone file in, making rude comments to anyone who tickles their fancy.
