Wanna get on, get off, or just get away?
Ask your doctor (or lawyer) to see if The Bus is right for you…
Ahhh…public transportation. Even if I’ve become a man of somewhat modest means, that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a free ride on a regular basis. But the benefits of burning less fossils fuels, wasting less of my hard-earned blogging dollars on gas, and helping reduce traffic congestion are just the beginning of the myriad benefits of pub-trans.
For example, we already know that it is a great way to stay connected to the common, salt-of-the-earth folk. It can also provide some great opportunities for performing acts of charity (and on occasion, opportunities for deep regret due to your own inaction).
However, I would argue that not everything in this world has to be so utilitarian. Sometimes, riding the bus can be an art form–or more accurately, a form of entertainment–in its own right. So please, I invite you to sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride as a regale you with a threesome of pointless Tales From The Bus…
“Why didn’t you catch the bus in front of me, you big jerk?!?”
I was shocked. Simply shocked. I was just trying to catch a ride to yet another one of my PhD-level classes (#HumbleBrag), and the last thing I expected was to have to defend my choice of bus in a court of law. I’m no law student, buddy–I’m just tryin’ get my physics doctorate on here, mmmkay?
I mean, whew! This bus driver was a real prick and a half. Like, Dude, your job is to stop the bus and let passengers on and off. And that’s pretty much it.
But, nooooo, not this asshat. He took it upon himself to demand a full and thorough explanation as to why, in the rare instance of two buses running the same route hitting a bus stop 90 seconds apart, that I chose the second bus instead of the first one?
Goodness gracious, heavens forbid I inconvenience Princess Bus Driver!
Ok, first off, it doesn’t matter. I don’t have to justify jack sh*t to the cracker-jack behind the wheel of the bus. My tax dollars pays for his salary. Homeboy works for me.
But in case you’re wondering, I had a ----- good reason for catching the second bus. And because I like you, Dear Reader, I will share that reason with you.
You see, in order to get to the bus stop in question, I had to cross a busy intersection first, and then walk/run about 100 feet. If I was real desperate to get to class, and the first bus was my only option, then maybe it would have been worth the risk playing Frogger with the heavy traffic that morning–i.e. jaywalking and putting my life, health, and well-being in harm’s way.
But, guess what? Lo and behold, as I watched my bus roll up to the stop, leaving me to impatiently wait for the crosswalk light to turn in my favor, I spotted a second bus barrelling towards the yellow light at the intersection. ‘Twas but a miracle! Two buses back-to-back? I couldn’t believe that the gods of public transportation were shining down their favor on me…again!
So, given the choice, no duh, I was not going to risk my life to catch that first bus, when I could calmly cross the street and casually stroll up and catch the second one.
Even saying all this out loud feels pretty stupid. I mean, it makes complete sense and was totally the wise and right decision, but…it’s just so…asinine.
Now imagine your butt-face bus driver surprise attacks you with his overly aggressive line of questioning: “Why did you make me stop?!? Why!?! WHY?!? ANSWER ME, YOU WORTHLESS, INCONSIDERATE, SELF-ABSORBED LITTLE TURD!!!”
Ah, I guess the point of the story is that they really shouldn’t let their bus drivers smoke meth before their shift. Or maybe it was steroids? Homeboy had some serious ‘roid road rage going on…
“Oh, you got assigned the Inetianbor v. Western Sky Financial case study, too!?! Man, I’ve heard we’re in for quite the treat–it’s a real classic!”
I may not have been a law student, but given that my university could brag that its law school was tied for #23 best-in-the-nation,1This statement was supposed to carry much more heft, as I was confusing the law school for the business school, which is ranked much higher. But, alas, that’s what happens when you fact-check yourself before you fact-wreck yourself. it should be no surprise that at least one of these budding douche-bags would take the same bus home at the end of the day as me.
The real problem, though, is when you get more than one of these guys in the same place at the same time.
And in this case study, the particular place was the door to the bus, as they decided to pause embarking the vehicle to have a full ----- conversation about their common class work. Yup, we’re all waiting for these oblivious jack-holes to finish debating the merits of mandatory arbitration in the context of financial law so the bus driver could close the door and we could all get home to dinner.
While the vast majority of us riders were collectively rolling our eyes at these guys, our heroic bus driver jumped into action.
In the most incredible gravelly “old female smoker” voice you’ve ever heard, she simply yet forcefully stated: “GET ON THE BUS.”
This may only sound mildly interesting to a third party hearing this story, yet to witness this glorious moment when The Smoking Bus Driver put the two idiot law school students in their place had quite the emotional impact.
In fact, in our household, it’s become a bit of a shorthand meme for any time we need to communicate “get on with it already!”–and it’s actually surprisingly versatile:
Is your spouse telling yet another long-winded pointless story around the dinner table instead of saying grace?
“GET ON THE BUS.”
Is your child stalling instead of going to bed on time yet again?
“GET ON THE BUS.”
Is your significant other bogarting the only comfortable toilet seat in the house for the third time today?
“GET ON THE BUS.”
Have the, er, “warm up” activities in the bedroom gone on just a bit too long?
“GET ON THE BUS.”
Indeed, from supper-time prayers to foreplay, the possibilities are endless…
“That’s a lot of rakes!”
In full disclosure, it wasn’t me thinking to myself that the amount of rakes this homeless (looking) guy was struggling to get on the bus was impractically large. No, unfortunately, this story I could only experience second-hand from another grad student in my department, Adam.
Adam had once lived near where I did, and after discovering this commonality over a couple of beers, we found ourselves bonding over experiences we had on the G bus.
Of important note, the main nodes for the G bus were our campus and the local, modestly-sized mall. It was there at University Mall that we would both often catch the bus.
One of these times, when Adam was chilling on the bus waiting for it to depart, this random guy comes aboard carrying between 15-20 rakes. Now this was only half-surprising since at that time there was a Rose’s, a medium scale lawn, garden, and home improvement store, at the mall.
But, naturally, so many questions abounded. Like, was this guy starting a lawn-care business or what? And why was he in such hurry? As we all know from our first story, he could always just catch the next bus.
Adam put it out of his mind as the bus pulled out and was on its way. “Might as well try to take a quick nap…” he thought to himself.
However, two blocks later, he was jolted awake by flashing lights and sirens. Or as Kermit T. Frog would put it:
“Please pull the bus over, sir” he heard coming from a megaphone outside the bus.
As soon as the bus pulled over, three cops boarded and swarmed Our Dude, promptly and swiftly hauling his rake-hauling ass down to the station.
Yes, you read that situation exactly right. Not only did this dude think “hey, I’ll just walk out of Rose’s with a cumbersome amount of rakes without paying for them,” but also “you know what would make a great getaway vehicle? A bus!”
I repeat: first, this guy decided that the most lucrative items he could steal were RAKES. Second, he literally chose to take off with more than he could carry.
And last but not least: he used a ----- bus as his getaway vehicle.
You know what I think? I think those law students are wasting their time on Inetianbor v. Western Sky Financial. No, their time would be much better spend studying the psyches of criminal masterminds like this guy…
Oh, what’s that? You’re absolutely insisting that there be a moral to this story?
Well, I suppose if there were a point to this story it would be that maybe–just maybe–if you’re going to steal rakes, at least be reasonable about it. Stick to five or six at a time–max. That way you can make a run for it when the po-po inevitably pull your getaway bus over.
Trying to full-on sprint with 15 rakes in your arms, though? Come on, good sir, don’t be ridiculous…
Content created on: 1/2 July 2022 (Fri/Sat)
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