Before I took my first bus riding, my baby brother had given me advice to dress properly. I didn't even know there was a dresscode for riding a bus!
Andrew: "You need to dress down if you want to take a bus."
Me: "Dress down?"
Andrew: "Yes, like a slumdog."
Me: "WTF?! What is that supposed to mean?"
Andrew: "I mean casual. Put on your jeans instead of skirts, take off your heels, no make-up. You have to leave your fancy purse for a while and start with a backpack... unless you want to attract some crooks."
Me: "I am casual."
Andrew: "ZzzZzZZzz @#$%^&*"
I did everything he (and my mom) told me except for the heels. Perhaps I was too naive that a bus would've actually stopped for me. That afternoon was unforgettable. I was too tired to move my own feet after standing on the bus for the whole an hour zig-zag trip and suddenly the conductor asked me to jump when the bus was slowing down? Arrghh!! I couldn't argue with him so I just hoped I wouldn't break a leg (and my 2-inch heels) when I landed.
So I was lucky indeed I could keep my balance and didn't fall off. But dammit, the heels were in a good shape but my right ankle was sprained. I kept telling myself "NO MORE HEELS ON BUS" ever since.