Catching the Bus.

The weather this morning is gloomy and wet, and as I make my way to the bus stop, my eighty dollar Converse shoes get covered in damp grass and mud.1

Brilliant. 2

I have never caught a bus before, because my mate Taz has always driven me to work. But unfortunately for me this morning he’s at a meeting, and so this morning I have to catch the bus. 3

The bus shelter is covered in pen markings and there is a piece of dried chewing gum on the seat. I sit away from the gum and wait peacefully while the highway ahead of me roars angrily with activity. 4

The cars have to go slow this morning because its wet, and some have their lights on; its easy to tell who’s cautious. As I watch the road ahead of me, the traffic lights on the lane furthest from me change their mind and turn amber, and the cars that are able to, slow down. A few ignore the danger and drive straight through the intersection without a worry. I shake my head and observe one driver who is blocking two lanes, as he is parked diagonally. Other drivers are giving him rude gestures and one even honks at him. 5

“Idiots…”6

The bus comes into my view and I stand up and wave it down, fingering the change in my pants pocket. A loud screeching noise erupts as the driver brakes and slowly stops. The door swings open and I hop onto the platform and step up to the driver.7

“Where to buddy?” he asks me cheerfully, as he opens his money tin.8

“To the city please,” I reply back, “near Martin’s Fish Shop.” I hand him my change and he shuffles through it, before punching something into his ticket machine. 9

Looking around the bus, I can see it is clearly full and there aren’t many places to sit. The driver shoves a ticket into my hand and grabs the steering wheel, waiting for a place to merge into the lane. Settling on two seating possibilities, I step forward. There’s a seat up the back next to a scary looking biker man, or a seat down the front, next to a timid old lady. 10

Its pretty clear in my mind which one its going to be.11

The nice old lady moves her bag for me and I give a smile of thanks as I sit down. The bus starts moving.12

“Youths these days,” says the elder, eyeing a teenager boy across from us.13

“Pardon?” I ask, surprised.14

“They have no respect. None,” she spits at him “That bloody boy over there could have stood up and offered a seat for you, but no. Never in my life have I seen such rudeness from a generation.” 15

I am beginning to feel unwanted, so I move over some more on my seat. The lady notices my movement and shakes her head.16

“If you don’t want to sit next to me, then kick that boy off his seat.” This was definitely not my objective.17

“No, no its not that, I’m okay-”18

“Go on, kick him off, he doesn’t deserve to be on there anyway. It was meant to be yours.” 19

It was not as much her words as it was her evil stare that made me lean over and tap the teenager on the shoulder.20

“Ah, Excuse me…,” I asked as he turned to face me, a slightly surprised expression on his face, “I was wondering if I could have your seat?”21

“What? Why? You have one though?” he said, sounding confused. The lady poked me in the back with her finger. 22

“Well…I need it, I’m sorry.” 23

“Get off it you rude boy!” shouted the elderly lady behind me, almost knocking me off my seat. The teenager looked horrified, but quickly picked up his bag and moved off the seat.24

“I…I am really sorry.” I said as I stood up to face him. He walked towards the back off the bus angrily and sat down next to the biker. 25

Some people mumbled to themselves, and I heard the words ‘selfish prick’ from under their breaths more then once. I shrunk into my seat, heat rising in my cheeks from embarrassment.26

The bus pulled into a shelter and I was pushed forward with inertia. Someone’s bottle of water flew down the isle, but no one claimed it. A teenage girl stepped onto the platform and handed the driver some money, receiving a ticket. She walked over to the old lady and asked politely if she could sit. The lady scowled, but moved her bag reluctantly, placing in on her lap. 27

I chuckled, amused at the elders pain, knowing she had to sit next to the very generation that had taken up her seat twice on her short bus trip. 28

As I stepped off the bus, I picked up the bottle of water which had jammed itself behind the door and took it with me, knowing I had survived the last bus ride I would ever make.29