The Bus Driver Picks Up (Or Tries To)
Monday, June 23rd, 2008It is a natural relationship. Good looking girls flirt with the bus driver, trying to get a free ride (sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t). Younger drivers flirt with good looking girls, trying to get a date (mostly it doesn’t work ’cause he’s, well, the bus driver, and she’s usually with her very judgmental friends).
Then there’s the more aggressive bus driver.
It is a slow Friday afternoon. I’m taking the summer off to write so I have the luxury of taking the bus at strange and uncrowded times. It is sunny. The bus is almost empty. The bus driver very young and very cute.
He stops for a coffee. Leaves the bus running, all of us muttering to ourselves, as he saunters into the donut shop, not a care in the world. A few minutes later, he comes back, smiling, happy. I can’t help smiling too, shaking my head.
A big truck in front of him tries to do a hard left across three lanes of traffic. The bus driver cusses at him, waving his hands in the air, honking, pointing at the solid yellow line the truck driver is ignoring.
A little farther down the road, the bus driver slows. He leans towards the door, his eyes flashing. I look out the door. There’s a girl with a short, short skirt and long, long legs. She’s walking, swaying her hips, long hair bouncing.
The bus stops in between stops. The door opens. The bus driver leans over, and yells out “Yo baby!” (Okay, pro tips to guys everywhere, we women NEVER respond well to Yo baby) “You wanna ride?” He does a Price Is Right gesture with his hand, showing her all the fabulous seats she has to choose from. “No?” Total disbelief. “Come on, baby.” (Why do men think babies are sexy?) “You know you can ride on my bus anytime.”
Every passenger on the bus groans. A few more attempts, I’m guessing a few more times getting shot down (I can’t hear her answer), and we’re on our way, the bus driver still grinning.