Urban Bus Adventure: Late

I was late, VERY late. My duties at my first job had kept me later than usual and now I was running down the street towards the bus stop. I hadn't even stopped to collect myself as I usually did before catching the bus. I had grabbed my bag and started the two minute trek down the hill and across the street. As I was running towards the bus stop I was looking around to see if I could catch a glimpse of the bus to make sure it hadn't left me. No, thankfully it had not come early. I reached the stop and sat on the bench. I checked my watch. I was O.K. The bus should be here any minute. I should be on time for class. What a relief. I sat there and waited. One minute passed. Two minutes passed. The bus came into view, but from the opposite direction. Oh no! He was late. Well, we usually had a couple of minutes to spare so I reasoned that we would probably be alright. Then, the unthinkable happened. The bus pulled into the McDonald's up the hill and the driver got out. "What is he doing?" I thought. The driver stretched a little and then sauntered in the McDonald's. "GREAT!" I thought, "He's going to get lunch and we are already late!" I began to pace around the bus stop. I checked my watch every few seconds. Two minutes passed, and then five minutes. With each full revolution of the second hand on my watch my stomach began to grow tighter and tighter. "What was this guy doing????? Didn't he know we were already late and he was making us even later?" After ten minutes the driver emerged from McDonald's and started the bus up. "FINALLY," I thought. By this time there was no way I was going to make it to class on time. The bus pulled up to the stop a full fifteen minutes late. I was fuming. I wanted so badly to say something to the driver but my manners kept me in check. The long, painfully slow ride to my destination did nothing to help the situation. The driver seemed to be totally oblivious to the fact that the bus was supposed to run on a schedule. I cannot express the frustration I felt when he finally arrived at my destination twenty-five minutes late. It took everything inside me to thank him for driving me as I exited the bus. I wanted to say, "Thanks for making me late," but I refrained. Thanks to that bus ride I was not only unprepared from my late day at work but I was late for my class. My rapid steps towards my classroom were fueled by anger. I hoped that would never happen again. I am sad to say that over the following three weeks that driver was my regular bus driver and he insisted on following the same lunch routine every day. It goes without saying that I had no great love for him or his performance as my bus driver.