Hail to the Bus Driver

Bus driver man!

He sits on the bus with a glossy look in his eyes and a vacant mind. The rattles and tattles of the suspension interrupt his stare from time to time but he soon fades away again. Glancing around, he thinks to himself of whom and what these strangers are. A ponder a second, a thought thrown in every direction without a single bit of confirmation minus the confirmation of his own suspicions. He wasn’t judgemental, just intrigued.

To the left, a woman who sits with legs crossed and a gentle smile as she absorbs the book she holds. A secretary, perhaps, or an office worker looking to escape the monotony of a pad and paper on her way home from work. A different time for him, something he could never do in life. A desk, a computer, just sitting staring all day? No thank you, he thought.

Just ahead sits an elderly couple both staring out the window as if they reflect on the many wonderful years they may have had together. They don't look frail or lifeless, but instead united in the embrace for making every day worth their while. They look happy. He wondered what they did in their lives that made them still so close, what warm embrace they never forget despite their many years of experience in life. It was fulfilling to him.

The bus continues to shake and scream against the contours of a broken road. Every few minutes it stops, feeding the cycle of continuous passengers like a well oiled machine. Ironic given how uncomfortable he felt from the many potholes populating this perilous journey and how loud the brakes squealed in despair at their every stop.

At the back slumped a young lad whom would look out of place in any century but this. His face was buried in the screen of his phone and a continuous buzz of music resonated from his ears. A student, thought the man, or just a kid that he didn't understand these days. The boy looked up, wiped his nose without a second thought and continued his stare deep into his mobile phone. Too many people look downwards these days, he thought. It's not good for the neck.

An elderly lady struggled to get onto the bus from her stop but the driver understandably took his time waiting for her. A glance down at the front seats revealed to the man a selfish lady, almost mature in her look, who didn’t bat an eyelid at the pensioner gradually moving towards the next seat available. It was almost pitiful to see egotism in all its glory but it was an uncommon sight on the bus, or so he felt. Eventually the frail woman settled herself down and gave a tired breath of both relief and exhaustion at those few little steps for some but now a lifetime for her.

The bus journey scuttled onwards and the man turned his head to the world outside. A grey palette of buildings, rain and poorly parked vehicles. He’d not driven for many a year but it was never something he enjoyed. The bus took control out of his hands; it relieved him of his nervous imposition and allowed him to enjoy movement from A to B. No, he didn’t like driving and he most certainly didn’t like drivers. Too many rude ruffians on the road these days, he muttered under his breath.

His glance was diverted once more by the passengers moving on and off at a constant pace. A new man had sat with his long brown overcoat and a soaked newspaper, all accompanied by wispy hair and teabags under his eyes that provided a clear look at the tiredness of this gentleman. A shop owner perhaps? Maybe a quaint job, he considered… maybe a key cutter or a shoe shiner? It raised a brief smile as he thought to himself how out of date his own considerations were.

Whilst in the midst of these thoughts more young teenagers had joined the journey and began playing some kind of terrible racket at the back of the bus. It was a truly abysmal noise, a crime against anything remotely musical and a terrible screech that almost pained the hearing aid in his hear. Grumbling, he turned at the youths but they simply laughed back. In a different time the belt would be out by now but not these days… he tried to disregard it and regained the tedium of his thoughts. Children these days…

It was his time to escape from the expedition that was his daily bus and head off to where his wife would be waiting. Reaching for the bell, it shrieked before his finger could touch the button with the overcoat gentleman already making the move beforehand. A brief grumble aside, the man got up and began his ascent along the narrow corridor of this worn and untidy bus. The music still rang harshly at the back, the elderly couple still staring to the outside taking in every sight they possible could. The bus made a sigh as the suspension lowered itself and the doors flung open. Looking aside, the man muttered softly…

“Thank you, driver.”