It was late afternoon, sitting in the back of the bus, waiting for my stop. I had sat uncomfortable for the last 10 miles and just wanted this horrendous trip to be over with.
It had been years since I had ridden the bus and this day had been no better than I had expected. First I had to get up at the crack of dawn to catch the damn thing and then of course, it was the bloody milk run as luck would have it. It stopped at every bus depot that ran along the highway and even managed to stop in some towns. I had read the paper for as long as my eyes would remain open and the other time I slept. probably snoring and keeping awake the other passengers.
My car had to go into the shop for its maintenance check up and again as luck would have it, I didn't have one buddy willing to wake up at 6 am to drive me into the city. I didn't pressure anyone, but still thought it cheeky, considering how available I was always for everyone.
When we reached San Rafael, the bus stopped at the station long enough for some riders to disembark and for others to board. The drivers even changed. The first driver had been a man in his early fifties with a big belly hanging just under his black belt. He was balding and snorted every time the bus hit a bump in the road. The new driver was a 30ish womyn with long brown hair. She had said "good afternoon" to the riders when she got on and I thought to myself then that she was more than the average driver.
It took a little more than an hour to get to my destination and then another 20 minutes for me to get a cab home. It seems that this particular Wednesday was especially busy for cabs. Another of Murphy's Laws coming after me.
When I arrived home, I had several phone messages, of which one was from my mechanic telling me the car wouldn't be ready for at least another 3 days. Well that meant clear through the weekend and most of Monday. Another of Murphy's still coming after me.
I retired early, after doing some bills and having a small repast. I went for a walk and then came home and showered and went to bed. The next morning I arose again at the ungodly hour of 4:24 am and showered and dressed and made it down the hill just in time for an overly crowded, standing room only bus, to come to a screeching halt before me. It appeared that Charles Mansons' twin brother was the driver of the day. I squeezed into the near capacity bus and was grateful for deodorants. After another long grueling day with my editor I stopped at the TransBay Terminal to purchase another bus ticket and waited on the ramp for the numbered coach. I saw the driver from the previous day board another bus and wondered what kind of job it would be to haul people around day after day.
While waiting for my bus, I met up with a fellow I used to chef with and he and I began chatting about old times. He suggested that we have a drink together when we got to San Rafael., I thought that was a good idea. Just then the coach pulled up to the curb and the would be passengers boarded.
As I pushed my ticket into the narrow slot and turned to walk down the aisle, I heard the driver say, "Sir, Sir, excuse me Sir"
My friend Rober tapped me on my shoulder and said she must be talking to me. I turned around and said, "Yes?"
She blushed and apologized. She just wanted to know where I was heading. apparently the womyn in the ticket counter gave me a bus pass for the opposite direction. Having noted that this was in fact the case, the driver said not to worry and waved me on. But it was a bit embarrassing to have held up the bus after she called me sir.