Bus Wars: Episode I, Attack of the Scones

I seem to be engaged in a silent battle, the battle of the bus stop lines. You see the bus I take is supposed to stop at Gate 8, but it usually goes slightly past it. So while I wait at the proper gate door, a certain woman has decided to start waiting at a door that is closer to where the bus actually stops. This has lead to a conflict so silent, so unnoticed, that it could, in fact, be completely in my imagination. Every day I arrive and already she is there, at the wrong gate. I pretend to be unfazed by her well trimmed hair and her cool leather jacket, but I am. Her biggest followers I have named "the weird mexican guy" and "fathead old lady" because I don't respect them and their desire to get to the bus first while honest hard working individuals like myself wait where we are supposed to. Usually her line ends up consisting of only three people, although I use the word people loosely here. My line on the other hand almost always ends up standing three, even four times longer. Once my line (the line of justice) has established itself as the longest line, I try not to look smug as I slowly leaf through my newly acquired copy of The Onion. Sometimes I see her talking amiably with her fellow conspirators, no doubt dreaming up new ways to lure my followers away from me. Like the day she wore that really low cut top that showed off her perfectly shaped breasts. Sure, I looked, I mean I couldn't help it. But never was I tempted to leave the line of justice.