Tag Archives: public transportation

Mar18

Transit Driver Appreciation Day

Posted on by
Standard
Bus Interior

Today is Transit Driver Appreciation Day! This holiday seems to the brainchild of TriMet transportation (providing bus, light rail and commuter rail service) out of Portland, Oregon.  

I think most transit drivers are real public heroes. They deal with traffic; inclement weather; and strange, belligerent, confused, and angry passengers. I always thank my driver.

The story that follows isn’t specifically about a transit driver, but it took place on a city bus, so I think it fits the occasion. Anything could happen on a city bus. Drivers and passengers alike have to be prepared for surprises.

Long ago I lived in a large city in Texas. I didn’t have a vehicle, so I walked or biked or rode the bus to get to all the places I needed to go. Work was a long way from home, father than I wanted to ride my bike early in the morning or after a long day on the job, so I spent a lot of time on public transit at the beginning and end of each work day.

One afternoon I was on a bus full of evening commuters. The place was packed. Every seat was taken, and I was grateful I’d gotten on early and had a place to sit.

White Bus on Road Near in High Rise Building during Daytime

I don’t remember when the woman boarded the bus of if I’d noticed her when she did. I was sitting in one of the forward facing double seats on the same side as the driver; she was across the aisle from me and father up, in the middle of the row of seats facing the aisle.

The interior of the bus was noisy with the sound of people talking mixed with the steady thump thump of wheels on pavement and the roar of engine. As the bus approached a red light, the driver decreased our speed, and the roar of the engine died down.

Of course, the bus was not the only vehicle on the road. We were in the midst of big-city rush hour traffic, so there were a dozen or more vehicles between the bus and the intersection. Even after traffic started moving, it was going to be a while until we started chugging along again.

It was at this time the woman decided to make her pronouncement.

I have to go to the bathroom! she called out in a loud, singsong voice. She placed the stress on the word “have” and the first syllable of “bathroom.”

Red Metal Bars in Side Vehicle

The woman was young, but definitely not a child. Most adults would not make this announcement to people they didn’t know

Everyone else on the bus was immediately uncomfortable and quiet. The interior of the bus was enveloped in the silence that occurs when a group of strangers are feeling socially awkward together. But ok, the outburst was over. We could move on…

I have to go to the bathroom, the woman burst out again.

Oh, the awkwardness was not over.

As the bus inched its way forward, the woman turned her words into a little chant.

I have to go to the bathroom. I have to go to the bathroom. I have to go to the bathroom. Her voice grew more plaintive as her chant progressed.

None of the other passengers on the bus would look at the woman or at each other. No eye contact was being made.


I have to go to the bathroom. I have to go to the bathroom. I have to go to the bathroom.

We could all hear the growing desperation in her voice.

Even if the bus driver would have let her out between stops, there was no place for her to go. We were in the middle of a block with an empty athletic field on the right and businesses not likely to have public restrooms on the left. Even if she got off the bus, where would she find the restroom she seemed so desperately to need?

I have to go to the bathroom.

Finally, the bus was close to the traffic light. Surely when the light turned green the bus would make it through the intersection.

I have to go to the bathroom.

Red became green, and the bus made it through, but I guess the woman was going to hold out until she got to her stop. She didn’t pull the cord to ring the bell or dash to the door. In fact, several blocks later when we got to my stop, I could hear her as I got off the bus, still chanting about her need to go to the bathroom.

Images courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/people-sitting-bus-seats-34171/, https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-bus-on-road-near-in-high-rise-building-during-daytime-68427/, and https://www.pexels.com/photo/bar-bus-grip-hand-grips-1462097/.

Nov7

Sunday in the City

Posted on by
Standard

When I left SuperMegaBabylon, I thought I wouldn’t see the city again for at least a year. Then my dad died, and I had to leave my van somewhere, had to fly from some airport to the town where his memorial service was being held. After less than two weeks, I was back in the city.

I parked my van in front of a friend’s house, on a residential street. That’s where I had the cab driver drop me off upon my return from the homeland. I barely thought about brushing my teeth before I crawled into bed and passed out for a good eight hours.

On Sunday morning, I tidied the van a little, then headed out to visit another friend and get some lunch.

I remembered where my bus stop was and headed that way. As is often the case, the bus stop was on a busy street. I approached the bench at the stop, expecting to sit until my chariot arrived. As I got closer, I saw something on the far side of the bench’s sitting surface.

What is that? I wondered.

My next thought was Are you fucking kidding me?

Someone had shat upon the bus stop bench.

There was both a pile of feces on the sitting surface, as well as remains of a more liquid consistency running down the legs of the bench and on the sidewalk. GAG! Who does such a thing?

I understand when you gotta go, you gotta go. I also understand the lack of public restrooms in many urban settings. I’d even understand if someone had used the bench as a bit of cover and relieved him or herself behind it. But shitting on the bench? It was just unkind to everyone who had to catch a bus on that corner.

I didn’t get any closer to the bench. I’d just stand until the bus arrived, thank you very much. I did shoot multiple furtive glances in the direction of the bench. Had I really seen feces on a bus stop bench? Was it really there? Each glance in that direction told me yes and yes, both by sight and smell.

During one of my furtive glances, I noticed a message in white spray paint left on the street. What did it say? I walked a little closer. The message read “#Fuck Trump.” The political commentator had also drawn a hand flipping the bird to whomever chanced to look. Here was an example of taking it to the streets in the most literal sense.

trump

I wondered if the feces on the bus stop bench and the anti-Trump message were related in any way other than proximity. Maybe someone had jumped from a bus, scrawled the message on the pavement, and had been so overcome by the thought of Donald Trump that s/he had to take a dump. However, if this had been the case, I think s/he would have used the opportunity to further comment upon Trump by shitting on or near his name. I’ll never know for sure, but I think these incidents were unrelated.

I took the photo in this post.