A few years ago I wrote about a few things I still feel guilty about, and two of them involved events that happened on a bus. When I reread that post recently, I was reminded of a few other bus stories. Why my bus life is so prominent in my memory, I do not know.

1. Kindergarten. It was Show and Tell day, and I chose to bring a new stuffed animal I had. A fuzzy white lamb. Innocent enough. Unless you have Devil Bus Driver driving you to school. My little fuzzy white lamb had a bell tied around it’s neck, and the sweet jingly noise a lamb bell makes? UNACCEPTABLE! Devil Bus Driver demanded silence at all times, and when she heard the accidental jingle from somewhere behind her, she demanded to know who it was. Everyone pointed in my direction. Unfortunately this story doesn’t end with her ripping my lamb in half and running it over with her bus. Because that would be a sweet story. No, she just yelled at me and told me to never bring that thing on the bus again. (Devil Bus Driver is the same one who let the high schoolers duct tape our mouths shut, as mentioned in the last post.)

2. Elementary school. I’m not sure which grade, but I was pretty young. And I didn’t have Devil Bus Driver at the time. I got on the bus after school, promptly fell asleep in a back seat, and woke up when the bus was empty. I panicked. I didn’t dare reveal myself to the driver right away, so I hid in my seat as we rumbled along, trying to figure out what to do. Eventually she heard me or spotted me, called me forward, and asked why the hell I was still on her bus. She was not thrilled. And neither were the bus garage administrators who told her to turn around and drop me off. And neither was my mom who was at home wondering why her daughter didn’t get off the bus that day.

3. Middle School. This girl, whom we’ll call Marina, was kind of a bully. I’m sure she was one of those girls who had a tough life and took it out on her peers, especially those weaker than her, which I surely was. She would bug my sister and I a lot with pestering and name calling. Nothing that really stung, she was just obnoxious. One day Marina was being particularly obnoxious, and she must have said something to us in particular, because when we got off the bus (we were one of the first stops), my sister and I, simultaneously but without it being planned, turned around and flipped her off. I think we may have even called out a particular B word. It was magical. It sounds pretty innocuous, I know, but at the time, the spontaneity and synchronization of that small gesture? Spectacular.