Sunday, November 16, 2014

BUS STORY # 419 (Shorts 38: Other People's Shorts 3)

Downloaded from Instagram:kam0372.

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Emily Ackerman reports she was escorting her friends’ 3-year-old daughter on the NYC subway when the little girl sees a very large, very tattooed man -- and I mean very tattooed. Face tattoos. Teardrops and crosses. She points right at him and says loudly, “Look! Look! A pirate!” Embarrassed, I do the lame adult thing, haha no no shhh. She then says, “Right there! Look at him! A pirate is right there!” Large tattooed man says, “No sweetheart, I’m a construction worker.” She then gasps, “You mean pirates can be construction workers, too? Whoa!” Subway car cracks up. My week was made.

Posted on Facebook by Emily Ackerman, via my daughter.

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A while ago I was on the 205, just riding home from work, like I do.
The bus driver was making a reasonable attempt to be friendly, bidding each passenger a good day as they got off the bus.
Until one woman got off the bus.  The bus driver said, "Have a good day!" as she got off, and she didn't say anything; she just stared straight ahead, ignoring him completely.
After she got off and the doors were closed, the bus driver muttered, ". . . or not."  Several of us had a good chuckle.
Fairness requires the observation that she might have actually been having a really bad day.

Have A Good Day... posted March 20, 2014, by BUSNINJA, on BUSNINJA.

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Over and over, she tells him that she did exactly what he asked and she’s pissed that he doesn’t appreciate her. But he said he can’t rely on her, so she’s telling him, over the phone, for all of us to hear, exactly what transpired. She asks him, repeatedly, to confirm that she did indeed do what was expected of her. Their words hit and expend their force, like two fifth graders hurling water balloons at each other. It escalates and the entire bus can feel their relationship tearing at the seams. Humans have the capacity for great art, tremendous acts of courage, and love that triumphs over evil. But sometimes the tantrums suffuse all reason and we lose the ability to be our best. Or even just plain decent. Small scale on the 120 to downtown or large scale across the globe, it plays out and breaks my heart.

Vanishing Reason, posted July 22, 2014, by Richard Isherman, on Bus Stories: Observations on Life In Transit.

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The second grader stepped onto the bus with all the confidence and resolve of a modern day Meriwether Lewis.  He was dressed in cargo shorts with the standard one hundred and fifty pockets filled with the items needed for a grueling trek across the vast wilderness.  His t-shirt extended well below his waist line and he wore a black dress belt around his waist.  Not in the loops of his pants, just around his waist on top of the t-shirt.  On the belt there was a small nylon pouch.  He stepped beside me and with the sound of Velcro being parted he produced a compass from the small pouch.  He held it out for me to see and informed me, "I will be keeping us on track today."  He looked at the compass with a concentration that is only known by those who realize that the lives and safety of innocent people are in their hands.  He pointed down the road and said, "That direction is," there was a momentary pause as he found his bearings, "that direction is, that away."  So we went, that away.  He looked at me shrugged his shoulders and said, "Hey, I looked at the directions and they looked hard so I'm not exactly sure how this thing works yet."  Lucky for us the school was due, that away, from where we were.

Go West Young Man, posted April 15, 2014, by Tom Brandon, on Mr. Brandon’s School Bus

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This morning on the 22 Fillmore:
Mr. Fantastic's outfit - dark purple skinny jeans and a black and white leopard print shirt. Neon yellow wristlet, flattop haircut, Clark Kent glasses.
Hot damn.
No one else could have pulled it off.

Bus Report #789, posted January 31, 2014, by Rachel in Fog City Notes.

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The photo at the top of this story is downloaded from Instagram:kam0372.

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