2 Hours 15 Minutes on the Hampton Jitney

By Dan Rattiner

It takes two hours and fifteen minutes for the Hampton Jitney to get from Manhattan to Bridgehampton. I generally get on at 86th Street and Third Avenue and I am usually pretty settled in by the time we are flying over the industrial heartland of Queens on the elevated Queens Midtown Expressway - the cemeteries and warehouses rolling by on the left, the big cranes from the port of New York marching by on the right.

Onboard there is a stewardess or steward who comes by with food and drinks, we have comfortable seats where we can take naps, if we choose to do that, or read the newspaper or magazines or fiddle with a variety of electronics. People watch movies, play videogames, check email on blackberries and listen to music on iPods.

I write stories for this newspaper on a small laptop while riding the Jitney. It is a good use of my time. No one is bothering me. I have enough battery power to last me the entire trip, if I need it. The cell phones are all turned off. No one speaks, except in hushed tones.

Well, I take that back. At the beginning of the trip, the steward takes out a microphone and explains the rules that will be in effect during the voyage. There is to be no smoking on the coach, not even in the lavatory in the back of the bus. You should try to stay in your seat at all times, but if you need to use the facilities, there are handrails to hold on to above the seats, on the edge of the luggage compartments. Passengers are allowed one emergency cell phone call per ride and only for a maximum of three minutes. And for passengers using electronic devices, please use earphones and keep the sound down to a minimum for the duration of the trip.

That's about it. Except for the price of the fare and that the payment is by credit card or cash. They also take personal checks, but only if you're a Hampton Jitney Club member.

At this point, we are stopping at the Airport Connection located at the Fresh Meadows Multiplex to see if anyone is waiting there to get on, which there isn't. And so now we are back on our way. It's time to power up my Dell X3. I have stories to tell.

As I reach into my shoulder bag on the empty seat next to me to get the laptop out, I think I hear something. It's somewhere up in front of me. And it's not outside the bus - the bus engine or the traffic outside - but something else, the soft sound of music being played over a tinny speaker somewhere. Obviously on the bus.

Who is guilty of this transgression? I recognize this sound. It's the sound of a movie soundtrack or song being played. Perhaps a song on a video game. I am certain of it now. It's coming from somebody playing an electronic device. And it must be very loud to get out of the tiny earphones and into the world.

I look toward the back of the heads of the two people sitting in the seats in front of me. They are a man and a woman of a certain age. Neither is wearing earphones. And then I look to the row of seats beyond them and there he is - the culprit.

From the back of his head, I guess him to be about seventeen years of age. He has a blond buzz cut. He is wearing black over-the-ear headphones. And I can hear what he is listening to.

Ka chink, ka chink, ka chink, whoo, whoo da da da and a ka chink, ka chink, ka chink a woo.

My immediate thought is to call the steward. My laptop is fully booted up at this point. The icons are on the screen, waiting for me.

It seems odd that the elderly couple in front of me are not bothered by this young man's earphones - the young woman sitting across from the elderly couple doesn't seem concerned either.

This tinny, little music sound - I can't quite make out the words to the song - is going to be a distraction to me. I can't be writing a story and then have lyrics such as these interrupt me.

But then I think, really, can I make out any lyrics? I listen really hard. I cannot. It's not quite so loud that I could do that. Well then, instead of making any sort of scene on the bus, why don't I just try to put up with it? Let it meld into the background with the other noises - the engine sound, the tire sound, the soft conversation going on from somewhere in the back of the bus. Give it a try. You could always do something about it later.

Ka chink, ka chink, ka chink, whoo, whoo da da da and a ka chink, ka chink, ka chink a woo.

You know what is really odd? This kid two rows up, this kid is sitting ramrod straight. It's impossible. Nobody could be playing music this loud and not be bobbing to the beat. Impossible. What? Is he deaf?

I open a Microsoft Word file, consider how I want to begin a story about the 300th anniversary of Sag Harbor, type a few words, start over and then I am off and running. And the sound of the iPod, or whatever it is, blends successfully into the background.

About half an hour into the story, I finish the lemonade I have been drinking and lean forward with the empty container to put it in the leather pouch attached to the back of the seat in front of me. As I do, the tinny sounds coming from those earphones suddenly cease. Right in the middle of a song. And then the same song starts up again, but this time from the beginning.

And then I realize something. The sound is coming from the breast pocket of my shirt. And in there is my iPod. And it's turned on, with the songs coming out from the earphones, the battery therefore wasting away because nobody, such as me, is listening.

This is so embarrassing. The problem is me. I take the iPod out of my pocket, flip a few switches and it turns off. Then, I put it back in there. You uncouth lout, you, I think, referring to myself. I blush and scrunch down in my seat.

And I look around to see if anyone has noticed. No one has. In fact, most everyone is either just dozing off, already dozed off, leaning back in their seats with their heads turned to one side, their eyes closed and smiling happily.

They have, we ALL have, at least most recently, been listening to Jerry Lee Lewis sing "Great Balls of Fire." And they are having "Great Balls of Fire" dreams. Whatever they are.

Now, where was I in this story I'm writing?

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