I hope it is brilliant anyways.... Enjoy!The Tales of a Common Bus Driver
As the sun crested to top of the mountains, I began another long day as a bus driver. It all started normal as always, creeping along to the first bus stop and meeting the day's new assortment of people.
My first passenger appeared as a I opened the doors, an old greaser, clearly a street dweller. He wore three tarnished shirts and several pairs of pants. He was unshaven, and covered in materials that I did not want to know of, the smell alone was enough. Every possession he had seemed to reside in his tattered, pink, Hello Kitty backpack, which was slung on one shoulder. I flipped him a quarter and demanded he sat in the back. I couldn't put up with the fishy, dung smell the emanated from him, and I was sure the other passengers wouldn't want to either. The man gave me a look mixed with contempt and maybe a trace of joy.
Rising next on my steps, was a man of the business type. He sported a neatly ironed suit, and a seemingly expensive tie. A bluetooth earpiece was permanently implanted in the side of his head, and he talked aimlessly away at it as he reached the top of the steps. He had a look in his eye, which looked to me to betray his real feelings. He was broad shouldered, and stood tall, his chest protruding a little more than I thought natural. "Welcome aboard," was my greeting, to which he ignored as he continued his conversation and moved to a seat near the front.
The form of a rather filled out, middle aged woman took up residence in my doorway. She was clearly pregnant, and the first of many children clung to her like a wet shirt. She looked tired and stressed, and her eyes drooped as much as the fat of her belly. Reluctantly, she took her first step on the bus, and each subsequent step was slower than the previous. As she finally reached the top, I held out my Elmo sock puppet, and gave my best shot at an impersonation of the red creature. The child began to cry, and I apologized, stuffing the puppet back under my chair, the woman however, seemed unfazed as she ushered the child to a seat near the middle where they sat. The child received a small slap and was whispered to, immediately following, the crying was ended; much to relief of me and presumably the other passengers.
I was greeted next by a dull, "What's up?" I looked my new arrival over best I could, but my eyes were nearly blinded by the neon green of the tracksuit that covered his body. I did happen to glance a fake gold peace symbol, dangling from his neck; it swung and flapped like I'm sure his track suit would have in the slightest windstorm. "There's a man in the back," I said, keeping my eyes averted as I said so, "you can sit by him," I directed, in hopes to offset the blinding green. "Thanks man," the fool said, quite dumbly. I nodded consent, towards the window in front of me, and he walked back to take his seat.
I heard the puff of smoke and guessed what was next. Rotating slowly in my chair, a leather clad man came into view, presently stomping out a cigarette. He was broad shouldered, his hair long and tied back with red bandanna. The studded leather covered a fair bit of his skin, and what it didn't cover, presented the black ink of his many tattoos. He had hanging by one shoulder another item of the leather apparel, a backpack. Imprinted upon the front was the usual skull and cross-bone design, sporting a red base, blood. His eyes were black, his pupils small, and as he staggered aboard, I'm not entirely sure he was well. He took a seat next to the woman and her kid, and stared at them, unwavering in his gaze. The woman pulled her son closer giving the man a glare as she did so, but the man responded only with a wicked grin.
I shook my head in wonder as I closed the doors and pulled away from the curb, wondering what could possible await me at the next stop.
