The common beef among St. Louisans is that to live and thrive in St. Louis, you have to have a car. Bullshit. Get on the goddamn bus, pansy. A big chunk of the population rides the road whales every day, but you snobbishly turn up your nose. What, you too good for the bus? Guess what? Get on the bus. If you squint at the colored route map, it could be a big-city subway system with routes moving every which way like veins on an old hand. Most lines run every half-hour, give or take. You've got a watch. Use it. What's the difference whether it's a bus, a double-decker, the Channel ferry or a limo? The outcome is the same: You get off where you need to. The westbound 32 Wellston-MLK is the workhorse of the system, a lean, efficient, form-follows-function, exhaust-huffing human transporter that moves the proletariat from work to home and back again. Rush hour is SRO mayhem as the bus runs up Cass and then turns onto Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Drive right by the church sign that reads "Jesus Save He Is The Living God" and up to Wellston, where MLK morphs into St. Charles Rock Road. It's a busy line, stopping nearly every block from Washington to Wellston, and features a revolving cast of characters, a requirement of any quality bus ride. At Wellston the line opens up like the Mississippi into the Gulf of Mexico and the driver floors it to Hanley and, ultimately, Earth City. What a route!