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Bus Story: Falling Anger

November 1, 2010

A very dark and stormy morning, with a dumping sort of rain that overwhelms street drains and would make for great puddle-splashing if we weren’t rushing to work. It also makes for useless umbrellas and a generally damp group riding the ole 54. It also means the floor is wet and very slippery. Add to that, a driver with a lead-footed first gear, and you get a well-designed slip-n-fall scenario. Entering this risk management nightmare comes a woman who is already cranky because she’s rain-soaked and she didn’t renew her bus pass for the new month and had to dig for cash for the fare. She finally moves towards the back to find a seat when Driver Dude launches our rolling steel loaf-shaped conveyance forward. Ker-thump! Both the man across the aisle from me and I exclaim “Oh, ow!” as we reach forward in a vain attempt to help her. But she’s flat on her back, and madder than ever. We both get up to help her, but she’ll have none of it. She tells us she’s fine, grabs a seat and hauls herself up. A palpable, almost electric feeling of embarrassment and anger whip-cracks through the bus, and all three of us take our seats. Nothing ruins our human need to be seen as in control than falling on our rears. Brush it off, my dear, we’ve all been there and think no less of you; just glad you’re okay.


From → Bus Stories

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