#87: pittsburgh observation #1

            The entire city is filled with middle aged women who talk very loud, drawing out their vowels to nearly oblivion. They're initially obnoxious and then endearing. And they're everywhere. Instead of the buses being filled with young single, stroller wielding mothers, clusters of chirping teens and city-dusted men in their quiet corners, the bus system is pulsing with these clucking women. It's hilarious. Women who grab my arm--forearm to forearm with her tight, small fist around my elbow--when the bus stops too suddenly and say, "Jus hold on to somethin, sweetie. Jus hold on to somethin." Women who moan and complain about the bus being a whole hour late as they board in their blindingly white, pediatric shoes and then look at me and say with a side smile,  "I'm just so upset. I'm just so emotional." They tug on suit jackets of the older gentleman who are standing to urge them switch spots because they'd really rather stand with a "Go ahead now. Take a seat. Go on." They holler up to the newest, slightly skittish bus rider who didn't bring enough for the bus fee, "Don't worry about it honey, I got it." as she pulls the dollar amount from the pocket book perched her lap and aggressively taps the gentleman in front so he'll pass it forward. It's a city full of put your jacket on, sit up straight and don't mumble mothers. That's what Pittsburgh is. The city of motherly love.