Imagine standing at a King County Metro stop in Seattle—coffee in hand, messenger bag hanging from your shoulder—when you notice a man with a missing chunk of his face. Then you start noticing the putrid scent of weed. Finally, the bus that was previously two minutes away according to your app suddenly disappears, becoming one of the many so-called “ghost buses” plaguing the area. Seattle is thriving.
I got to the bus stop around 7:30 a.m. on Thursday morning. It was more packed than usual, with three homeless people (a couple, and a single man) camped out at the bus stop. One looked high, the other two giggling and talking. At the time, the Transit app said the bus was about ten minutes away.
More and more people started to crowd the bus stop. And out of the corner of my eye, I see one man approaching. He was tall and skinny, and coughing up a storm. Others turned toward him, but I didn’t because there have been many instances of riders hacking up a lung, hopping on a bus with the rest of us. I moved away from my spot waiting for the bus so he could get on before me and I could sit as far away from him as possible.
A King County ghost bus revealed a homeless man without half of his face
Seven minutes left before the bus was supposed to arrive, I started to hear a weird noise. An airy sucking; the sound you make when you’re slurping soup. Two women to my left kept looking, somewhat discreetly, towards the coughing man, then back at each other. Again, I assumed they were just annoyed that he’d be getting on the bus and spreading all his germs around. Again, I thought nothing of it…