Rainy days and Mondays

Good morning. I am on the bus as I type this. I’m on the driver’s side, three seats back. That doesn’t include the sideways-facing bench. If you count that as one “seat” I’m four back. But if you count each actual seat on the bench, I’m seven back. And that doesn’t even count the driver’s seat, which seems to me to be in a different world.

I ride this bus every workday. I recognize so many faces. Same group every day, nearly. In fact the driver changes more often than any of the passengers do. The driver changes every three months. Union rules. There isn’t a passengers union. Man, I’d join that, if it gave me a say in how things are run. I’d find out why different drivers have such wildly varying ideas about their job.

Bus stop approaching. Argh! Why does someone sit next to me, blocking me in, one stop before I get out? Sorry, dude, you’ve got to move, just when you sat down.

Out into the rain I go…