Bus Driver Stories_Big Red’s Planetary FU

Another Passenger Folly

In yesterday’s post, I hinted at a second entertaining story courtesy of my passengers, and here it is.

But first, let me set the scene. It was a clear and crisp day. The kind of day people pay good money to experience during Florida’s winter.

FYI—For all you northeast liberals: I’m a conservative, and just like everything else I say, I just lied about the weather. The truth is the weather sucks. Also, mask and vax mandates, Joe’s build back better (or for worse) plan, and defunding the police, are huge successes. So stay right where you are, and keep on voting for politicians like AOC and Joe Biden.

Now, back to setting the scene:

My bus is a full fare bus which means $1.50 buys you a seat. There are qualified discounts, but first, you must qualify. We also have free-fare bus routes for people who live in certain areas. For this story, we’ll say that people from Tim-Buck-Too (fictitious) qualify to ride these free routes, but again, the route I drive is not free, so that doesn’t apply.

My route is a big loop, approximately one hour long. On this particular loop, I arrived at one of my stops with an empty bus and slightly ahead of schedule. One passenger was waiting to board, so I knelt the bus and opened the doors.

Big Red, as we will affectionately call him for obvious reasons (he’s big and has red hair), boards my bus and feeds a dollar into the farebox. Then, he continues to his seat as though he paid the full fare. To do it right takes practice because you need to do it fast, and in one swift motion. It’s the first rule of bad ridership. If you don’t do it right, you have to stop, allowing the driver an opportunity to catch you shorting the fare. Big Red was an expert, and as such, made his way to the rear of the bus. He figured that he got away with it again (Dumb driver), mistake number one.

I waited until he got comfortable in the back seat of my 40-foot bus. Why? Because I’m not as dumb as I look and this isn’t my first rodeo. “Excuse me, sir. The fare is $1.50.” Big Red pretended not to hear me—standard operating procedure for experienced riders. But I wasn’t deterred and repeated, “Sir, the fare, it’s a $1.50.”

    “Oh. I didn’t know. I never rode the bus before, and everyone said it was a dollar.”

    Mistake number two, I know he’s an experienced rider but I played along. “No sir. This is a full-fare bus and it’s a $1.50.”

Big Red didn’t like being challenged like that, so he forgot the second rule of bad ridership; when the driver expects you to come to the front of the bus for any reason, always walk as slow as possible. Remember, the driver has a schedule to keep. But Big Red let his temper get the best of him and charged to the front. “Since when is it a $1.50? I always pay a dollar.”

Mistake number three. He just said that he was a new rider. I ignored this mistake as well and pointed to the front of the farebox. “What does it say?” When Big Red finished reading, he just stood there like a statue. So, I repeated, “What does it say?”

    He hadn’t figured out a response yet, so he told the truth. “It says a $1.50 but ….. Oh. Wait. What if I’m from Tim-Buck-Too?” If he was a new rider, how would he know about Tim-Buck-Too? Mistake number four.

    I looked him straight in the eye and said, “I don’t care if you’re from Pluto. This is a full-fare bus.”

   He shot back with the smartest-ass answer he could muster, “What if I’m from Uranus (pronounce your anus)?”

How did Uranus end up on its side? We’ve been finding out | Salon.com

https://mediaproxy.salon.com/width/1200/https://media.salon.com/2014/03/uranus.jpg

   I’m an experienced driver, and insults like this don’t really faze me one way or the other. So I said with a smile, “Then you’ll have to get off my bus.”

He wasn’t expecting that response, especially attached to a big smile. It caught him off guard because he was trying to anger me and it didn’t work. He paid the 50 cents and went back to his seat wondering what the hell just happened.

Here’s another FYI. Drivers are still required to wear Biden-Masks even though passengers are not. How does that make any sense? I don’t know. Anyway, I repositioned it so it could finally serve a function, help hide my laughter.

By the time we got to the end of the route, Big Red wanted to get off the bus to smoke a cigarette before continuing. The route ends and begins at a transfer stop where we wait five minutes while passengers change buses. On his way off the bus, he stops and asks, “Is it okay if I go smoke a cigarette?”

    I’m still trying to hold back laughter, “Sure.”

He didn’t realize it, but the joke was on him and every time he opened his mouth, I had to struggle not to laugh. He saw that I wasn’t angry, and for the life of him, he didn’t know why. The more he thought about it the more he started to worry. Then, he realized that he was physically off the bus and earlier I mentioned something about him having to get off my bus. I could see it on his face. He was really confused and getting more concerned by the minute.

It was time for me to stretch my legs. As I got off the bus, I walked past him and started to make my way down the loading deck towards the security guard. Big Red saw this and panicked. Then, he did the only thing he could. “Driver! I’m sorry about that Uranus remark.”

    I turned back, “Why? I thought you meant it as a joke.”

    Big Red was at a loss. “Uh, I did.”

    “Well, that’s how I took it. If you didn’t mean it as a joke, you’re walking.”

    “No. No. It was totally a joke.”

    “Good.”

I wasn’t trying to get the security guard’s attention, I just happened to walk in his direction. He looked at me and asked, “What’s that about?”

    “I’ll tell you later.” And then, I walked to the other side of my bus and cracked up laughing until it was time to go.

——-

In case you missed the joke, when my passenger posed the question, “What if I came from Uranus (pronounced your anus)?” He quite literally called himself a piece of shit.

A Big Red Piece of Shit.

Sometimes, the hardest part of my job is keeping a straight face.

Bus Driver Stories_Mattie and Gert

Outrageous but not atypical.

It was a somewhat slow news week, so my political muse was nowhere to be found. Let’s face it, Joe Biden falling asleep during meetings or reading the teleprompter instructions as part of his speech, just isn’t newsworthy anymore. How sad is that?

Fortunately for us, my passengers came to the rescue.

Let’s start with the most recent episode of passenger outrageousness.

I picked up two old ladies on an errand to someplace or another, the actual destination is irrelevant. Of the two, one seemed to be the caregiver (supervisor) of the other. We will call the caregiver Matilda and the other Gertrude. I don’t know their real names and (for legal purposes) these names are fictitious.

Mattie and Gert finally get themselves seated after only five or six minutes. When it comes to the elderly or children, I try not to move the bus until they sit. FYI, I was on schedule before I picked them up.

Of course, it didn’t take long before Mattie shouts, “Are we going to make it to the mall on time?” Keep in mind, she was seated in the middle of a loud, crowded bus, and I heard the question clear as a bell. But I chose to ignore it because passengers aren’t supposed to talk to the driver, especially when he’s driving.

For Mattie, rules are no obstacle whatsoever. She simply turned up the volume a few hundred decibels and repeated, “Driver, are we going to make it to the mall on time?”

“No ma’am. We’re now five or six minutes late.”

Gert chimes in, “What did he say?”

“He said we’re five or six minutes late.”

I expected Gert to go ballistic, but she didn’t. She just said, “Oh.”

About a minute later Gert says something to Mattie that was completely garbled. Mattie ignored it the way I initially ignored her. And just like Mattie, Gert was not deterred. With the volume turned up a few notches, Gert says, “My ass is slimy.” The whole bus heard it except for Mattie, who happened to be sitting right next to her.

“What did you say?”

“My ass is slimy.”

“What?”

“My ass is slimy.”

“Your ass is shinny?”

“No! My ass is slimy.”

“Your ass is grimy?”

“MY – ASS – IS – SLIMY!”

“Oh.”

And that’s how they left it for a minute or two. Then, Mattie shouts out, “How did your ass get slimy?”

“I don’t know. It just is.”

That wasn’t good enough for Mattie. “How do you not know how your ass got slimy? I’d know how my ass got slimy — if my ass was slimy.” Mattie shook her head in disbelief. “How do you not know? You gotta know.”

“I already told you, I don’t.”

“You gotta know.”

Gert tried to defend herself, “How the hell am I supposed to know? I can’t see it.”

“You don’t have to see it to know. You can feel it. How did your ass get slimy?”

“I – DON’T – KNOW.”

Mattie wasn’t satisfied and attempted to delve deeper.

“Did you pee yourself?”

“No.”

“Did you shit yourself?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s got to be one or the other. Which one is it? How’d you get a slimy ass?”

Gert defended, “You think you know everything. Well, you don’t. You’re wrong. It doesn’t have to be one of those. Maybe I just got a slimy ass.”

“You can’t just have a slimy ass.”

“Why not?”

Gert was enjoying Mattie’s frustration, and when I looked at her in the passenger mirror, she was looking back with a shit-eating-smirk. And then, I had a BDBE, Oh God.

Mattie couldn’t hold back anymore, she burst out, “You’re lying. Either you pissed yourself or you shit yourself, and you’re too stupid to know which is which.”

Gert shouted, “No. I’m not stupid. You’re stupid. I’m not lying either, and I can prove it. I didn’t shit or piss myself. I did both.”

The two were quiet for the rest of the trip.

Thank the Lord for Depends.

Tree of Life

First, some bus driver talk:

We just had our semi-annual route picks. Every six months we pick new routes to give drivers a break from routine and an opportunity, if one exists, to get a better route. It’s based on seniority and I’m not at the top of the list, but the good news, this time I was able to get one of my choices.

For the past few years I’ve been stuck on a particular route. As routes go, it’s one of the least favorite because it requires a special type of driver. For me, it wasn’t all that bad because, let’s just say—when I need to be, I can be very special.

In a nutshell, you have to deal with many (this is to satisfy the PC police) residentially challenged passengers who ride for free so they frequently ride, and they expect concierge service. I’ve developed a few techniques I use to remind them that I work for the county, not Uber, and they can stick their concierge service where the sun don’t shine. It’s been successful. Although in their case, that place where the sun don’t shine frequently sees sunshine—moonshine too. Modesty (by necessity) is not one of their virtues.

Now for the tree:

The image below is just another example of why I needed a change. It’s the stump of what used to be a beautiful shade tree that I passed under nine times a day while driving my route. It was beginning to grow into the power lines directly above and rather than trim it, they cut it down. That was about five months ago and for me, it was sad. Why? Because, on what was normally a dismal drive, this particular spot with its large shade tree and four-way stop, was a brief yet peaceful respite. Entertaining too! You can’t imagine how outrageously funny people can be until you watch them try to figure out how to work a four-way stop.

So there I was driving my route and passing this dead stump day in and day out, when out of nowhere, the unimaginable happened, and it happened fast. One day there was a dried-out stump, the next, it was green with life. And it really cheered me up to see that with each passing day, there was new growth, greener and denser than before. To me, it represented real hope for the future.

Then, on my last day driving this Godforsaken route; a beautiful sunny day that followed three days of rain; I expected to see the tree, my tree, thriving with life and promise. Alas, I think the meme speaks for itself.

Au Revoir, Vaya Con Dios — Later Old Friend

I Hate to Say I Told You So …

The bald-faced truth hidden behind the title.

Prelude to the post:

In order to establish my credibility, expertise, and truth detecting abilities regarding the following post, let me reiterate, I’m a bus driver. People, whose daily existence depends solely on their innate ability to deceive, lie to me every day in a vain attempt to avoid paying their fare share. We call them passengers.

Now for the post:

Everybody always says it: I hate to tell you that I told you so but— and then they go on telling you. Of course, it’s a blatant lie. If they hated to tell you something, they wouldn’t, and that would be the end it. That said. I’m here to break with tradition and pretense; I’m going to publicly relish and admire my prescient abilities by proclaiming

I Love to Say I Told You So.

Check out my post The Tail is Wagging the Dog. It’s a little long but it has a big picture that takes up a lot of space. It’s one of my more important posts given the situation our military leadership is in today. And make no mistake; it is our military, not the leadership’s. This is an excerpt to whet your appetite.

General Milley-mouse is the Chairman JCOS and as such, is the man, the last man in the military hierarchy with the responsibility to put himself between danger and the American people. Somewhere along his career path, he forgot that he’s a soldier and became a politician. When President Biden ordered a full-scale retreat from Afghanistan prior to securing the safety of our American citizens and allies, Gen. Mouse had a duty to say NO.  I will not give that order. At that moment, while not risking life or limb, Gen. Milley would have become a national hero. But because his career is more important to him than his duty, he became what he is today.

So here’s the I Told You So part. According to published reports, and this includes some liberal-leaning publications, General (Milley) Mouse found it necessary to contact his counterpart in China and discuss a preemptive (against the US), cowardly, and treasonous act. Imagine the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff warning the enemy before an attack. It’s difficult for me to contemplate. Besides—where would Gen. Milley-Mouse, a pusillanimous backstabber, ever find the intestinal fortitude to do something so egregious?

The answer is. He doesn’t need intestinal fortitude because he doesn’t think warning the enemy of an attack is egregious; it’s smart politics (at least he thinks so). He sees himself as a politician, not a soldier and that’s why he did what he did while serving President Trump. Could you imagine what would happen if he made that call while serving Presidents Obama or Biden? Or wait … wait for it … waittt … I’m having a prescient moment.

Maybe—just maybe, he is serving Obama/Biden.

PS – check these out.

Trump about Milley

Beauty and Brains (never commingled on CNN or MSNBC)

Milley faces growing calls to resign over call with China – Bing video

Time is Running Out

After all the Thanksgiving sales and Black Friday bargains, at a time of year when everybody wants to take your money, I’m going to take the opportunity to offer you something for free. Today, Cyber Monday is your last chance to download free of charge, “See Jane,” a short story about Jane Arch, a businesswoman extraordinaire who has it all, and is willing to do anything it takes to keep it.

So put away those credit cards and take a moment for yourself. Visit www.LDavydPollack.com and click the “See Jane” buttons. Two clicks (maybe three) should get you there. And if you like Jane, check out the other stories I have available, you know, when you get a chance . . .

women, career, family, power, girlfriend