A Rainy Day on the Bus

Yesterday evening's ride home was interesting. It was rainy and messy. I couldn't leave work early, but I wanted to try to get the 5:30 bus so I wouldn't have to wait half an hour for the next one. At 5:30, I hurriedly scrounged an umbrella from Lost and Found. When I got out to the street, I discovered that the one I had grabbed was in tatters. I ran back in with it, dropped it in a trash can and tried again. The second one had a big hole in it, but even though it too was trash can fodder, I was determined to make it work. I saw the bus pulling in just as I got to the station. I was relieved, but a bit wet, especially the bottoms of my pant legs and this dampened my mood.

When the moms and kids got on from the daycare center, there was at least one young mom in a very bad mood. There were a lot of loud, sharp reprimands to the little ones. I can certainly identify, because when my kids were little, I had my frazzled moments. I probably never yelled this at my 3-year-old, however: "Wipe yo' damn face." I might have thought it, but never yelled it. When they got to their stop, the mom hoisted her son up by the neck of his jacket (scruff of the neck springs to mind) and yanked him off the bus. She told her other little one to jump.

We zoomed on down Haywood Rd. Suddenly, I was knocked in the head. "Sorry lady," the young woman behind me said, lurching over me to hit the yellow "next stop" strip. I said, "You could have asked me to hit it for you." I doubt she heard.

I wonder if all rainy days on the bus are like this?