Urban Bus Adventures: Bus Crash

It was a beautiful spring morning and I was waiting once again for the bus. I had early morning classes to get to and I was hoping the bus would be on time. It usually was. My favorite bus driver, Mac, was driving the route this morning and I was thrilled. Ever since he had taken the morning route over some 6 months prior, my ride to class every morning had become very enjoyable. Mac had been in Tucson for years and had held various jobs around town. He was fascinating to talk to. I would sit as close to the front as I could so that we could talk all the way to the university and then do the same on my trip home. I loved having him for a bus driver. He was also very punctual. Most bus drivers irritated me because they didn't care whether or not you were late to your stop. Many times I found myself huffing and puffing across campus to get to class 5 minutes late thanks to my lethargic bus driver. But that didn't happen with Mac. He made that bus move like no other bus driver I knew could. We were always on time unless something unavoidable happened. So, I was there waiting for him, looking forward to seeing him. He pulled in right on time and I hopped up the steps, swiping my pass and sitting in the first seat across from him. "Morning, Mac!", I called out. "Well good morning to you! How are you this morning?" he replied. I answered that I was alright and we started in chit chatting. We had made a couple of stops and were heading down the road at a good rate. We pulled in to a stop, more passengers boarded, and we started down the road again when suddenly we hit a massive wall of traffic. Mac tried desperately to slam on the brakes without losing control of the bus. The bus was swaying slightly and we were all hanging on to the rails as the bus skidded to a stop and into the car in front of us. There was the sound of the bus hitting the bumper of the car and a general gasp as the passengers on the bus realized what had just happened. We had just been in an accident in a bus! Mac was very clearly shaken and was asking everyone if they were alright. He radioed the bus station to send the police and let them know what had happened. He was informed that the passengers could not leave the bus until they had filled out reports of the incident. Upon hearing this several passengers began complaining about their schedules and asking if that really was the case. He tried to calm everyone down and find out what they needed. One man insisted that he had to get off the bus and find other transportation to an appointment he had. Mac took his information down and asked him to sign a statement before he left. He scrawled something on a sheet of paper and then gathered his things and stepped off the bus. Mac continued to try and calm the passengers and ask us to stay until the police arrived. He then got out of the bus and went to check on the passengers in the other car. The police were on the scene in a few minutes and were soon asking everyone what had happened.
I never made it to class that morning. Instead I spent the next hour filling out report forms for the bus company as well as giving a verbal statement to the police and filling out forms for them. Eventually another bus came to pick us up and take us to our destinations, but I felt bad leaving Mac there. There was no real damage done to the car in front of us. The bus was not going very fast at the moment of impact and the car bumper had absorbed most of the impact. Unfortunately for Mac, the front seat passenger in the car was pregnant and she began to hyperventilate when the bus hit them. The paramedics said she was most likely just fine, but she insisted that she was not and Mac feared there would be a suit against him and the bus company. He looked so shaken and worried when I left him that I felt terrible for him. I wished that I could help him some way. He asked if he could use my information in case he needed witnesses later on and I told him I would help him in any way I could. As I drove away on the next bus my thoughts were filled with worry about Mac. I never saw him again. I found out later that because of the accident the bus company had terminated him. I was sad to see him go. I never have had a better bus driver than him. How sad that a traffic pile up and an unavoidable accident left me without a good bus driver. Such is life on the bus route.

Urban Bus Adventure: An Enjoyable Ride

It was spring in Arizona. The trees were blooming (yes, we do have trees and, yes, they do bloom in the spring), the air was crisp and cool, birds were singing, and the sun felt warm and inviting as I stepped out of my house and walked to the bus stop. It was 7:20 a.m. and I was on my way to class. I stood at the bus stop and waited for the bus to arrive. It pulled in right on time and I boarded,greeting my driver and swiping my pass as I headed for my favorite seat in the middle of the bus. I set my backpack on the seat next to me and turned my body to face the window. It was a beautiful day and I had twenty-five minutes to just sit and enjoy it as we rolled down the street towards the university. The bus pulled away from the stop and started rumbling down the street. Traffic was its usual backed-up self with cars moving at the rate of snails and buses moving even slower, but somehow, this morning it didn't seem to matter. The bus driver was the friendly one that had been driving this route for the past two months. He was busily greeting all the passengers as they boarded the bus. I really enjoyed talking to him and he and I had become what I call bus-friends. I wouldn't attempt to talk to him now but when I returned from class in an hour we would have a nice long conversation. He was a really good driver; one of the best. He was rarely late and he always made up for it when he was. He tried to get you to your stop on time and made every attempt to make your ride as enjoyable as possible. I really liked him. I was glad he was my bus driver this morning. I opened my window just a crack and let the cool spring air rush in. It felt so good on my face; like a refreshing shower. Yes, this would be a good day. We arrived at our stop exactly on time and I gathered my belongings and headed towards the front of the bus. "Goodbye, Mac! See you in bit!" I said as I got off the bus. "Goodbye! Have a wonderful time in class!" He replied. I smiled as I headed down the sidewalk. What an enjoyable bus ride. Why couldn't they all be like that?????? Well, at least I could be thankful for that one and hope there were more like it to come. I hurried on my way to class, thankful that I had enough time to get there thanks to my bus driver.

The Girl

She sat on the examination table and wished she was any place else. It was cold as ice and the thin hospital gown was making her shiver. There was an IV hanging out of her arm. A nurse was taking two vials of blood and she felt like it was going to be an eternity before she could lie back down. The smell of chemicals burned in her nose and the bustling around of hospital staff kept her from relaxing. She wished she was somewhere else. The admitting nurse had asked questions, the tech had asked questions, the two doctors had asked questions. She had answered each of them as best she could, but she was not sure of her answers. They needed to run some tests, they needed an answer. The blood test would tell them. She lay back on the hospital bed and curled up as much as she could. She pulled the warmed blanket up to her chin and waited for the results. Cold and chills shook her body and shame and guilt gripped her heart. How could she have gotten herself in this mess? Why, why did she compromise herself that way? She knew it wouldn't be a good thing, and now she was living out the proof. What if they found something when they ran the tests? What if . . .? The thought was too terrible to complete. Her life would be devastated, her dreams would be shattered, her whole existence would be in question. The time moved slowly as she waited for someone, anyone, to come back and tell her what was going on. She tried to conquer the fear that was welling up inside her, tried to calm herself and keep from panicking.
Finally, they came. The tests had come back negative. Relief washed over her, but it was not a soothing relief. For every wave of relief there was a wave of shame that came with it. They ran some more tests to make sure everything else was alrigh. The IV came out and she slowly put her clothes back on. She wished she was somewhere else, anywhere else, and that her circumstances were different. She carefully walked out of the hospital and drove home. She took some pain killers and crawled into bed. She pulled the covers tightly over her head and prayed that sleep would come. Then she would be somewhere else, at least for a little while, and maybe, perhaps she could escape the humiliation and shame for a least a small amount of time.
Bad decisions will always come back to haunt us whether in little ways or in big, sooner or later. Living for the moment is not always the best decision and will most assuredly affect you for many moments later to come.

Urban Bus Adventure: Falling Asleep On the Bus

It was the end of the semester and I was tired. I had pulled one all-nighter the night before last and I had only had 4 hours of sleep last night. I was riding home after 4 hours of classes. It was sunset when I stepped on to the bus. My ride home was going to be about 30 minutes long with the evening rush hour traffic. I settled in a seat next to a window facing the west and I marveled at the beautiful colors filling the sky. The oranges, pinks, purples, and reds were a sight to behold. I didn't want to stop looking at the amazing display of colors but my eyelids were growing heavy. I leaned my head against the window and shut my eyes. I would just rest them for a bit. Soon I was in another world, drifting off to the realm of dreams. I was wrapped in the warmth and vibrant colors of the sunset. I was filled with wonder at display of the mountains and way the sun fell behind them. I was certainly no longer on the bus. I was taking a quick trip to a far-off place that would lend me momentary rest and a chance to refresh my weary self.
"Excuse me, excuse me. Young lady." I stirred and then quickly opened my eyes. It was dark outside. There was no one on the bus and the bus driver was standing in the aisle looking at me. I jumped a bit, unsure of what was happening. Was I still dreaming? Was I still really on the bus? Then it hit me - I was just waking up from my "quick" nap. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed. The driver quickly reassured me, "It's ok. It's not a problem. I saw that you had fallen asleep so I just waited to drop you at your stop on my way back. I would let you keep sleeping except this is the last route for the night and I am headed back to the garage."
"Oh, no. That's ok. Thank you for waking me. I didn't mean to fall asleep. And thank you for bringing me to my stop."
I gathered my things rather sheepishly and stepped off the bus. I had fallen dead asleep and hadn't noticed that everyone else on the bus had gotten off, nor that I had passed my stop a few miles back. Thank goodness the driver was familiar with my route and knew where to drop me off. In fact, he had saved me a trip across the street my letting me sleep until he reached my stop again on the return trip. I couldn't believe I had fallen asleep like that! I would definitely get some rest tonight. I didn't really want to make a habit of falling asleep on the bus.

Urban Bus Adventure: The Cheerful Bus Driver

It was April in Tucson. That meant it was beautiful outside and though I didn't particularly wish to be standing at the bus stop at 7:20 in the morning, it was bearable because it was spring time and everything was more enjoyable. The bus arrived right on schedule and I boarded. The bus driver was particularly cheerful that morning and greeted me, "Good morning, young lady! How are you this lovely morning?" I smiled at him and responded that I was fine and took a seat at the front of the bus. The bus pulled away from the bus stop and seemed to bounce along the street as cheerful as its driver. We stopped at several more stops and the driver continued to greet each boarding passenger with a bright "hello!" and bade the exiting passengers a bubbly farewell. I couldn't help but chuckle at the driver. He was rather amusing! As a rule, I am not generally a morning person and I do not enjoy people trying to hold conversations with me, but this man was different. He was so easy-going and happy that I couldn't help but find myself engaged in a conversation with him. We talked for most of the trip with him stopping only to greet new passengers or well-wish those leaving. We had gotten about half-way through the trip and I was beginning to wonder at this driver. How could he remain so cheerful and excited about the day and the passengers? Surely he wouldn't remain this way for the entire trip. Surely he would run out of things to say and greetings to give. One of the things I found most entertaining about him was his ability to greet each passenger with a different greeting. The man was an elderly gentleman and so some of his greetings were rather outdated or aged ways of saying hello; but I didn't mind. I thought it added to his charm and the hilarity of his persona. It was absolutely entertaining to watch him and the reactions of the passengers to him. There was one stop we came to and a woman got on the bus. The bus driver greeted her, "Top of the morning to you, ma'am!" She seemed a but taken-aback but quickly responded, "Well, good morning to you to! How are you this morning?" The bus driver replied, "Perfectly peachy poopsie!" I just about fell off my seat. I wanted to laugh SO badly! My sides were shaking from inner laughter and my mouth was twitching in an attempt to keep from smiling too broadly. The woman chuckled a bit and started to find a place to sit on the bus. The bus driver then turned back to me and our on-going conversation. I was still having a hard time controlling the urge to laugh and the driver noticed the smirk on my face. He laughed a little laugh and then winked at me. "There's nothing like having someone greet you in the morning with a smile and a kind word." A few minutes later I was at my destination and got up to exit the bus. The driver said goodbye and promised to see me later. Apparently he was the new driver for my route. Well, at least I would have an entertaining bus ride every morning!

Urban Bus Adventures: The Drunk and the Kid

He stumbled onto the bus weaving and swaying as he staggered up the steps and attempted to pay his bus fare. He was grabbing around in his coat and his pockets looking for money. "It was just here! I know it was. Hang on bus driver, I know I have my money. Just give me a minute." The bus driver eyed the man. This passenger certainly wasn't your average well-kept, wits-about-him citizen. My seat right behind the bus driver gave a front row seat to the goings on of this bus drama. The passenger wreaked of alcohol and his slurred speech gave away the number of drinks he'd recently had. His clothes were tattered and looked like they were two sizes too big for him. His long hair was matted and his face was unshaven. There was a film of dirt that covered his skin and dark smudges covered his shirt and jeans. He was a pitiful sight if ever I saw one. We were still sitting still - the bus driver was still debating whether to let the man keep searching for money he obviously didn't have or to kick him off the bus and keep going.
"Here, sir" I turned at the sound of someone behind me talking. I saw a kid, maybe 14, getting up from his seat. He was walking towards the front of the bus with a dollar in his hand. He inserted the fare and the man stared at him with a dumbfound look on his face. The boy immediately turned around and headed back towards the back of the bus. The bus lurched forward and the drunk man grabbed at a rail in an effort to steady himself. The bus driver looked at him and then focused all his attention on the street in front of him. "Sir, please sit down." The man looked at the driver as though he was dazed. Then he looked around him and realizing there was a seat directly behind him he sat down.
At the next stop the drunk man got off the bus and stumbled down the street. Where he was heading was not clear and it didn't seem to matter. He was going to wander around aimlessly until the liquor wore off and then he would find some more to fill himself and the cycle would start over. The bus driver shook his head and started the bus forward again. The next stop we pulled into the kid who had payed the bus fare stepped off the bus, thanking the bus driver as he did so. The bus driver acknowledged him and then turned to me and said, "That kid probably thinks he did that guy a favor, but trust me, that man would have been better off left on that sidewalk where he first got on. He rides these buses day in and day out and never goes anywhere or does much of anything except get drunk."
I thought about this for a minute and then asked, "Where does he get the money to ride the bus if he doesn't work a job?" The bus driver shrugged and said, "He plays on the sympathy of people, just like he played that kid to get him to pay his bus fare."

Tears On the Bus

I climbed on the bus, cellphone smashed to my ear, trying to juggle my bus pass and my bag as well as trying to make sure the phone didn't fall. My sister was talking on the other end. The despair was rising in my stomach and making its way to chest. I managed to pull my bus pass through the machine and started making my way to the back of the bus. I was still trying to listen to what my sister had to say but I was slowly growing less willing to bend my ear. Her accusations came like harsh slaps on the face. Her expectations seemed insurmountable. I was speaking in hushed strained tones as I tried desperately to explain myself, to reason with her, to tell her how I was feeling and what I was going through. She wasn't listening. It was like talking to a brick wall. She kept talking until I finally had enough and halted the conversation by telling her I didn't want to talk anymore. There were only a couple people on the bus, but they were staring at me as though I was an alien with three heads. I had found a place at the back of the bus - a window seat. I was trying to speak in even more hushed tones but the frustration was rising and I could tell I wasn't succeeding at being inconspicuous. My sister kept talking, bringing up painful memories from the past, trying to say something to convince me to see things her way. Nothing mattered but what my family thought. What about my thoughts? What about my dreams? What about my desires and how I saw things? What about my life? When did I get to start living my life and quit living everyone else's? When would my family see me as me and not a reproduction of themselves? When would I get to be my own person and be loved and respected for who I was rather than constantly being forced to conform, to fit a mold that I didn't fit?
The cell phone was growing warm in my hand. My head hurt from listening, from thinking. The desperation, the hurt, the frustration rose as tears in my eyes, spilling down my cheeks. Now there were quite a few more people on the bus and a couple had seated themselves right behind me and across the aisle from me. I was embarrassed at my red, blotchy face and the tears that were still tumbling down my face; I couldn't stop the flow. It was all I could do to keep the sobs from escaping my mouth; resisting the tears was out of the question. My sister had finally said everything she wanted to say. "I love you. We can talk some more later. Bye." As she said goodbye I mumbled something and closed my phone. I turned so that I was completely facing the window. I had another 15 minute ride until I could escape the wondering probing eyes of those on the bus around me.
It was raining outside. The raindrops fell on the window and ran down it making small streams. I leaned my head against the glass and let the tears fall. I didn't care anymore who saw me. They would just have to wonder and stare. I had held it in too long; there was no resistance left. I knew the tears wouldn't fix anything but they were there and I couldn't hold them back. It was still raining outside. The gray clouds and stormy atmosphere felt like a picture of me, what I looked like inside. It was raining outside, raining inside.