A young fellow boarded my bus today, about six stops away from the main downtown transfer point. Of course, he doesn’t have his fare ready, and I’m not in the mood to wait around so I just start driving away while he looks for it. He started feeling around his pockets saying, “Oh, shit!” and “Oh, man!” and “Oh, Henry!” (Okay, I made up the last one.) Right away, I’m onto him. He’s going to pretend he can’t find his money until we get downtown and then he’ll get off and say, “Oh, sorry, I don’t have any money, I better get off the bus.”
Oh, you didn’t know that we know when you’re doing that? Yeah, we do. Know this, and know it well: Bus drivers have seen and heard every scam in the book and we know damn well when someone is lying to us. If you think you “got away with it”, you really didn’t. We know you are scamming – we just don’t care most of the time. It’s not worth it to me to give up my break at the end of the line because I had to wait for a supervisor to come deal with your sorry, trifling, broke ass.
Before I continue with the story, I must take a moment to provide some background information about the set-up of the interior of our buses. We basically have two styles of buses -- Low-floor, wheelchair accessible buses, where there are no steps for the passengers, and the regular “old fashioned” kind of bus with steps. That’s the kind that you probably rode in when you were in high school. In the low floor buses, the driver’s area and seat is raised, so I am actually eye-level with a person who is standing. In our older buses, when you are sitting in the driver’s seat, you are, regrettably, at crotch-level with a standing adult. I thank the Powers that Be that I was driving the first style of bus today, and you’ll see why in a moment.
Back to my story.
After 3 more stops, I decided to turn around and ask him if he’s having any luck finding his money. Now, keep in mind that he has been standing behind me this whole time, digging in his pockets and saying (quietly) “Oh shit! Oh, fuck! Oh, damn! Oh, Susanna!” (Yeah, I made that last one up again). Lo and behold: The motherfucker has his hand shoved deep into the open fly of his jeans and he was certainly “looking” for something, but I don’t think it was his money.
A transcript of our conversation follows:
Me: Oh no you did-int! Sir, you need to get off the bus now, you’ve got your hand down your pants, and you clearly have no money.
Perv: Okay, I’ll go sit at the back then [WTF??? Why, so you can “finish”? I don’t fucking think so! He actually started walking towards the back of the bus, as if I was going to allow him to stay aboard and enjoy the rest of the ride.]
Me: Oh hell no!! You have your hand in your pants and you are making me uncomfortable and you are getting off my bus. NOW.
Perv: [as he is stepping off the bus] But I got my money right here! Damn, you are ignorant!
Me: You got your hand in your pants and you are calling me ignorant? Take care now, bu-bye!
I wanted to be a kindergarten teacher when I grew up. Why is this my life now, why???
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