As a Bus Route 305 rider, I will share with you a tale of high drama, rarely seen. Frightened by the prospect of bad weather, I have forsaken my usual bicycle transportation and rode the BRT yesterday and today. Much to my amazement, last night I bore witness to an altercation between poverty stricken, expired-ticket-passenger and ill-tempered, monolith bus-driver. To aid the uninitiated, expired bus tickets serve considerably different purpose depending on whether you are the issuer or the reciever of such an item - any percieved commonality or agreed upon worth declining rapidly after the allotted usage time is exeeded. It was such a misunderstanding that led to the altercation I describe. Trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea (or, more correctly, between the disheveled and the big blue bus driver), I was subject to the whims and flow of the discourse as it proceeded.
Conflict ensued; punctuated by the bus driver implying that the man (now swearing profusely and directing a series of derisive words and hand-gestures at said bus driver) should remit and be subject to a physical beating he would not soon forget. I became an unwilling human buffer in the ensuing confrontation, with opposing forces astride either side of me. The tension was palpable as the combatants sought to out-do their foe; one with his distinctive brand of verbal attacks, the other with implied recourse to physical violence. Civility was, however, soon restored and the ride continued most uneventful after that. I will state with unequivocal certainty that at no time was I in physical harm, nor did I perceive my person, or the persons of my fellow passengers, to be in danger. I credit this to the fine training and physical bulk of the bus driver.
In conclusion, I went on to read my book - grateful to be alive and thankful that fortune found me on the plus side that day.
Today's ride: strangely disappointing in its un-eventfulness.
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