Please Don't Seduce My Husband

Route: From Jerusalem to Meiron jct

Distance: 207 km / 128.5 miles

Pushed: 6 people

The Story: Today a story about the bus. To understand this story, a few key points need to be clarified:

• While the central bus station is, logically, the point of departure for nearly every inter-city bus line, the 982 begins in Sanhedria, an ultra-orthodox neighborhood. The central bus station is the 10th stop.
• The ultra orthodox, generally, don't participate in civil life, yet often expect demand the rest of the country cater to their needs
• Had Rosa Parks been an ultra orthodox woman, she would have shut up and put up with riding in the back of the bus.
• Fridays are short and there are limited buses. All the while, there seem to be an infinite number of people traveling to wherever you happen to be going.

After sleeping for less than 5 hours the previous night, I decided to catch a nap for the price of the bus ticket (subsidised at 41 shekels, guess why). But upon reaching the central bus station, I was horrified to discover that two out of every three Jerusalemites had decided to head up to Tzfat for the weekend. After being passed by the first bus, I resolved to push my way on board the next one. I managed to be the 8th person out of 10 who the driver agreed to take standing. Or rather, sprawled in the aisle.

If you've ever been crammed between 2 soldiers and an American yeshiva boy, all with functioning cell phones, you know exactly how quickly you can kiss your nap plans lehitraot (I've had excellent naps on the front steps by the driver). I spent the ride listening to NPR podcasts, alternating between sitting and standing.

At one point, I stood and leaned against the chair next to me, in which an elderly ultra orthodox man sat. Next to him sat (gasp!) his wife. They were both reading little books: parsha and psalms, the usual pre-Shabbat fare. At one point the wife, who was sitting by the window, reached around her husband to lower his arm rest. I didn't think much of it. A few minutes later, my eyes caught the wife's, and our conversation went something like this. (I've included staging directions, in case any political party out there wants to use my script, free of charge, for a campaign ad)

Wife: (to me) would you please move to the girls section of the bus?

Me: this is the girl's section (true) and there isn't any room (pointing at aisle full of bags). Plus, this is my bus too.

Wife: (whispering to husband) that's a girl (her eyes dart in my direction)

Husband: (doesn't give a gefilte fish's tushy) ok, so?

Wife: don't you want to switch places with me?

Husband: no, it's ok (goes back to reading parsha book)

So, a few possible conclusions arise:

• The husband didn't believe I was actually female
• The husband had on his special "you can't seduce me" glasses
• I was planted on the bus by the tzniyus guard, causing the man to utterly fail the test

From now on, I hitch.