Social Norms, AC Transit Style

"They shouldn't even let those high school kids on these nice buses--they'd just mess them up!"

Such was the vibe on the cushy, coach-style transbay NL bus, which runs during commuter hours on weekdays. Meant to entice commuters to San Franisco with comfy seats, smooth travel, privacy and wireless internet, the buses follow the regular NL route, and therefore benefits those of us traveling within the East Bay as well.

I take the NL frequently, and since our class is at 9:30 AM, when I take it to school, sometimes I score the Nice Bus. As any public transit user knows, buses are great for people watching, can provide wild and unexpected assaults on the senses, and are the locus of a distinct set of social norms. You can talk loud, but if you're talking TOO loud--on the phone, to yourself--the driver may interrupt you, for the sake of the bus. You can smell like weed, but you probably won't get away with smoking it for too long, before someone says something. You should get up for elders and people with strollers, and you should sit in an empty set of seats before you plop down next to a stranger. You can open the window above your seat, but it'd be odd to go around and open all of them. Small talk with fellow bus riders is acceptable, but full-on conversations are subject to scrutiny by your partner and onlookers--the chat should be consensual and appropriate.

Needless to say, these norms are tested on the bus every day. But when I ride the Nice Bus, it's a different world. People are quiet. The outside world dulls to a hum. The seats are paired on either side of the aisle, and when you're sitting down, you can't see the rest of the bus. Eye contact, for better or worse, is eliminated. Someone talking on a cell phone becomes a noticeable noise factor. And people take out their laptops! I can't imagine someone taking out their laptop on a regular bus--they would look foolish and naive, a high-maintenance commuter at the very least. But this is who these buses are created for, at least hypothetically.

This morning, as our Nice Bus pulled up alongside a regular bus, I looked down into its interior. People were standing over others, avoiding eye contact as bodies accidentally staggered around with the lurch of the bus' brakes. From our insulated ride, music from headphones or cell phones was inaudible, but clearly, folks were rocking out. A stroller lingered in the way of the aisle, and people chatted with friends and family.

Strollers and wheelchairs cannot easily fit on the Nice Buses, if they can at all--so there is a limiting, exclusivity that goes beyond the intended goal of the commuter bus. But other than that, anyone can get on--yet they behave completely differently once they're there! The cues seem to work--the quiet, the privacy, the air of privilege. The woman who I overheard saying the quote at the beginning of the entry was onto another realm of social control: everyone could ride the Nice Bus, but not everyone deserves to. Bits of graffiti sometimes appear on the backs of seats, and certainly private seats could encourage questionable behavior. Maybe it does. But operation: social control seems to be working for AC Transit so far.