(Mori)Bus Philosophorum: Yes, Virginia, There are Stupid Questions

Members of the D.A.R.E. generation were reminded ad nauseum by educators that, “there are no stupid questions.” I would like to challenge this idea, because I’m pretty sure I’ve located one of the places where stupid questions have been hiding for the past twenty years: in the heads of people riding CDTA.  I hear at least one doozy every day.  This morning a woman muttered a personal favorite of mine: “Where the hell are we going?”  It’s a very open-ended, philosophical question that seems to pop up whenever a bus deviates from its straight shot on Western into Stuyvesant Plaza.  “Where the hell are we going?”  What a tricky little question!  I always want to inquire about the real issue.  Are you afraid that the bus driver is brand new and hasn’t learned the route?  Are you so pressed for time that the 90 second swing through the parking lot is going to make a huge difference?  Are you nervous about the recent rash of bus hijackings where terrified passengers are whisked to the nearest high-end strip mall and forced to drink overpriced coffees?  (“Where the hell are we going?  Something doesn’t seem right, here.  Oh…oh my god.  HE’S TAKING US TO STARBUCKS! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!!!!”)  If that was your explanation I could almost understand, but it seems more like an opportunity to express manufactured displeasure at something that will work itself out. This morning I couldn’t help but turn around when I heard the woman’s exasperation.  We made eye contact and I opened my mouth to say something pleasant and helpful, like, “The bus makes a loop through Stuyvesant Plaza and then goes to Crossgates,” but she glared at me in a way that said she really didn’t want an answer, so I clammed up and went back to my book.  The woman pulled out her cell phone and, without saying hello, barked, “Yeah, do you know what channel I can watch the Michael thing on?”  See, there are stupid questions everywhere, no matter what our teachers told us.