A woman and her daughter got on my bus today. The girl was probably 5 or 6 years old, and seemed like she might be between Ritalin doses. She wanted to sit at the very front of the bus but her mother told her, "NO, the sign says those seats are for the elderly and the handicapped, and you're not old or handicapped." Well, er, actually....nevermind!
So of course, a few stops later, a sweet little old woman gets on. Can you see where this is going? As soon as Betty got up the steps, the little girl says, as loud as a fog horn at 6am on a Sunday morning, -- "MOM! She's OLD, can she sit there?"
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. Poor mom!
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
How Refreshing.
Most times when I pull up to a stop and open my doors, the people waiting for the bus will just barrel on with complete disregard for the people that may be trying to get off the bus. Normally, I don't give a shit because the dumbasses getting off should have gone out the rear doors anyway.
In the case of little old ladies, however, my opinion changes. What kind of a dumb fuck cannot wait 30 seconds for an old woman to get off a bus? She needs to hold both rails on both sides of the open door, and she cannot do that when there is a fucktard in the way. It is sad that I actually need to say to people, "MOVE OUT OF HER WAY!"
The other day, something happened that restored my faith in man (just a little bit). I pulled into a stop, and opened the doors. An elderly woman wanted to get off, bus as she wasn't too sure on her feet, she waited until I was completely stopped to make her way to the front doors. The gentleman who had just stepped on looked up and saw her coming. Instead of trying to squeeze by her to get to a seat (or more commonly, force her to squeeze around him while he acts like he's the only person in the universe), he turned around, got back off the bus and actually took her bags for her and extended an arm to help her get down.
Of course, he paid with cash fare instead of a bus pass. A regular doesn't have such sense. He is probably a normal person whose car just wouldn't start that day.
In the case of little old ladies, however, my opinion changes. What kind of a dumb fuck cannot wait 30 seconds for an old woman to get off a bus? She needs to hold both rails on both sides of the open door, and she cannot do that when there is a fucktard in the way. It is sad that I actually need to say to people, "MOVE OUT OF HER WAY!"
The other day, something happened that restored my faith in man (just a little bit). I pulled into a stop, and opened the doors. An elderly woman wanted to get off, bus as she wasn't too sure on her feet, she waited until I was completely stopped to make her way to the front doors. The gentleman who had just stepped on looked up and saw her coming. Instead of trying to squeeze by her to get to a seat (or more commonly, force her to squeeze around him while he acts like he's the only person in the universe), he turned around, got back off the bus and actually took her bags for her and extended an arm to help her get down.
Of course, he paid with cash fare instead of a bus pass. A regular doesn't have such sense. He is probably a normal person whose car just wouldn't start that day.
I know it's covered in snow....
But it's still a road, fucktard. So stop walking down the middle of it! What is the difference if you walk through the snow on the sidewalk or walk through the snow on the road? I'll tell you the difference -- you won't get hit by my bus if you are on the sidewalk!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Keep 'Em Where I Can See 'Em
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???
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???
Friday, January 30, 2009
Winter Wonderland (as in "I wonder where everyone's brains went?)
Okay, it's time for a few lessons about how to behave in the winter.
First of all, stop fucking complaining about snow in the bus stops. It's winter. We live in Canada. It snows here. A lot, sometimes. Put on a pair of boots, and get on with your life. One cannot reasonably expect to have every single flake of snow scraped off the sidewalk less than 6 hours after it has stopped snowing.
Second, if you want to complain about snow in the bus stop, then go knock on the door of the house or business that abutts the sidewalk, and complain to them. They are responsible for clearing the walkways that surround their house or business. If you live in a big apartment complex, then go complain to the managers, because they too should be clearing the ENTIRE walkway in front of the building. Amazing how every business can get their parking lot cleared out ASAP, but they can't pay the guy an extra $50 to snow blow the sidewalk.
Let me just pause to give a special shout out to the asshole orthodonist whose office is across the street from Walmart. I won't name names, since they guy is clearly a selfish, arrogant pricktard and would probably sue me. -- "HEY BUDDY!! CLEAR THE FUCKING SIDEWALK IN FRONT OF YOUR BUSINESS!!!! There happens to be a bus stop located on that sidewalk (a very busy one), and it's completely inaccesable whenever it snows. I hope you never need to use a walker or a wheelchair, Mr. Fancy-Pants Orthodontist. YOU SUCK!!"
Next Week's Lesson: How Not to Get Hit by A Bus Sliding on Ice (hint -- don't run in front of it while it's still moving).
First of all, stop fucking complaining about snow in the bus stops. It's winter. We live in Canada. It snows here. A lot, sometimes. Put on a pair of boots, and get on with your life. One cannot reasonably expect to have every single flake of snow scraped off the sidewalk less than 6 hours after it has stopped snowing.
Second, if you want to complain about snow in the bus stop, then go knock on the door of the house or business that abutts the sidewalk, and complain to them. They are responsible for clearing the walkways that surround their house or business. If you live in a big apartment complex, then go complain to the managers, because they too should be clearing the ENTIRE walkway in front of the building. Amazing how every business can get their parking lot cleared out ASAP, but they can't pay the guy an extra $50 to snow blow the sidewalk.
Let me just pause to give a special shout out to the asshole orthodonist whose office is across the street from Walmart. I won't name names, since they guy is clearly a selfish, arrogant pricktard and would probably sue me. -- "HEY BUDDY!! CLEAR THE FUCKING SIDEWALK IN FRONT OF YOUR BUSINESS!!!! There happens to be a bus stop located on that sidewalk (a very busy one), and it's completely inaccesable whenever it snows. I hope you never need to use a walker or a wheelchair, Mr. Fancy-Pants Orthodontist. YOU SUCK!!"
Next Week's Lesson: How Not to Get Hit by A Bus Sliding on Ice (hint -- don't run in front of it while it's still moving).
I'll take "Things I Could Have Done While Waiting for the Bus" for a $1000, Alex.
Yeah, I know I bitched/blogged (bitchogged? Can that be a new word) about this already, but it is a serious problem. Plus I just thought up the clever title and wanted to use it somewhere, and if I use it to someone's face (as I desperately want to), I'll get in trouble.
Never fails -- huge group of people waiting for the bus, some clown has to push his or her way to the front of the line, get on the bus first.....and THEN start digging through their pockets for their fare. Bonus points if they also have a stroller or a big-ass grocery cart so no one behind them in line can just "fare through" and go past them.
Here's another simple thing you can do while waiting for the bus --- get your fucking shit together. Don't wait until I'm already stopped there with the doors open to start collecting your 6 million plastic grocery bags (which, by the way, you should be using reusable fabric bags because they hold more, they are easier to carry and they are better for the environment, you over-indulgent sloth), or to gather up your backpack, guitar case, artwork or whatever other tools of teenage angst you may be carrying around with you.
Never fails -- huge group of people waiting for the bus, some clown has to push his or her way to the front of the line, get on the bus first.....and THEN start digging through their pockets for their fare. Bonus points if they also have a stroller or a big-ass grocery cart so no one behind them in line can just "fare through" and go past them.
Here's another simple thing you can do while waiting for the bus --- get your fucking shit together. Don't wait until I'm already stopped there with the doors open to start collecting your 6 million plastic grocery bags (which, by the way, you should be using reusable fabric bags because they hold more, they are easier to carry and they are better for the environment, you over-indulgent sloth), or to gather up your backpack, guitar case, artwork or whatever other tools of teenage angst you may be carrying around with you.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
A Tribute to Jeff Foxworthy
If you've ever used a grocery cart from the local supermarket as a moving van, you might be a redneck.
If you've ever tried to bring said shopping cart (full of your prized possessions) onto a city bus, you are most likely a redneck.
And if, when the driver refuses to let you board the bus with said cart because it's illegal to STEAL, your response is, "Nuh-uh, I bought this here cart fer a quarter!", you are DEFINITELY a redneck. And a big, fat F.L. (figure it out).
If you've ever tried to bring said shopping cart (full of your prized possessions) onto a city bus, you are most likely a redneck.
And if, when the driver refuses to let you board the bus with said cart because it's illegal to STEAL, your response is, "Nuh-uh, I bought this here cart fer a quarter!", you are DEFINITELY a redneck. And a big, fat F.L. (figure it out).
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