shuttles and soup

a stranger from another charter busline and i by the name of greg, drove the stupidest charter that i have ever been on last night. usually charters are somethhing to be avoided at all costs which is why the extra board guys like myself find ourselves getting called in expecting a line run that we know and then get the dread chill of the unknown clamp around our heart when we are asked to stop by the office for charter orders. charter orders usually consist of a typewritten form with the pickup and dropoff times (which are frequently starting within an hour of when we are standing in the office wondering how in the hell am i getting this bus there?!?), a few mispelled contact names that we cannot get in contact with anyways on our restricted company cell phones, often incorrect and/or vague addresses and stapled to it, a map or two photocopied and either a miniature relief of the entire new york metropolitain area with a green highlighter scrawled across a few boroughs. if we traveling by plane at 30,000 feet, maybe this would help. or the map is a closeup of a neighborhood say, in brooklyn. fine for naviagting a few blocks, but where these blocks are connected to the outside world is impossible to say. but we always get a friendly don't worry, the passengers know where they are going and a good luck! from the dispatchers. that always seems like a charm that i would like to be able to rely upon because right then, i am never sure when or if i am getting back from this trip. but last night seemed easy enough. don't worry i was told, they will even feed you! its a charter to shuttle people back and forth from two hotels to a restaurant/food service/ trade show 5.3 miles away... close enough to drive there even if you are in town from across the state. trouble is, thats what people did, drove themselves while greg and i were told to do a continuous cycling back and forth for five hours. between us, we picked up 40 or 50 people in the first three hours and if that sounds like alot, consider the fact that my bus alone could have fit 52 people on board in one trip, with hours off sitting on the bus reading or enjoying a hot meal smoozing with the restauranteurs (who did nothing but tell me how good the food was after their night was over...), but instead i drove this course over and over again until i could drive it in my sleep (as i believe that i was for the last hour...). i logged in over 120 miles of traveling point A to point B. sort of like sysyphus... at least i wasn't doing this for an eternity, only what seemed like one. i think that i know what awaits bad bus drivers in hell.
in the men's room at my home terminal, there is always a struggle and agony to find out that the liquid soap dispenser hasn't soap in it when all you want to do is wash off the germs from the thousands of other drivers who have handled the steering wheel and just basically clean the grime and grease from your hands and the quarts of liquid quick drying disinfectant from the bus lavatories... and then find that there is never any soap in the dispenser. someone trying to be helpful, i suppose, scrawled in black sharpie on the top of the dispenser 'don't put any liquid soup in here...' fine, but how about SOAP?!? i suppose that they could have tried tomato soup that would help firm the skin and leave it feeling clean or maybe minestrone for basil-ly fresh hands...
a few weeks back, i was standing in the port, languishing, waiting when two nuns got off a bus, sounds like the beginning of a joke, right, but i wish that i had the punchline. they were normal enough nuns, black habits and crosses dangling from long chains, middle aged, long black skirts, conservative shoes, everything that you imagine a nun to be when you mentally conjure up a picture of a nun in your head. but, for one important fact. they each wore a bright yellow plastic inflatable child's swim ring around their necks. like i said, no punch line.
miscellaneous pet peeves. please don't park in the bus lane in the park and rides that are clearly marked 'buses only.' especially with your new ford explorer eddie bauer edition because you may think that its large, but when i pull up to find you in my way, you look like an ant... inconsequential and underfoot.
and please for the love of god, don't wait to burst through the gate at the port authority late, while i am backing 40,000 pounds of bus up in a confined space with literally millions of dollars of buses and equipment around me and expect for me to stop, or even notice you, because despite your frantic yells of 'hey, waitaminute...!' i won't.

you can't want always what you get

yesterday was a bit of a lose/lose situation. when i run late, it becomes a situation of diminishing returns sometimes. if i am late, then that means that the passengers are correspondingly late and if they are late, they are crabby and if they are crabby and late, chances are that i am twice as crabby and twice as late. to the chagrin of myself, i found out that after an already long day driving to oneonta and back that i had to bring the college kids that i carted from oneonta to their mysterious and exotically named long island destinations. names that belong to long forgotten indian lore like massapequa and islip to the appropriately named babylon. (how could any township be incorporated knowingly by town fathers and settlers with that name?) it was bad enough that i haven't been driving on the island that much and that whenever i go, i get this preternatural fear(?) of it and of being there. it is as if the back part of my head, the primal animal brain can sense that i am on an island that I am surrounded by water. even the long islanders, i think, sense it and so have always in my eyes been prowlers on an island, crowded in amongst one another so that they have this wild look of claustrophobia in their eyes and have a need to drive very fast as if they were escaping the impending lapping waters of the atlantic. i just know that i always feel better crossing the throgs neck bridge and suddenly i'm back on the mass of a continent.
encountering a throng of students eager to leave town in the opening days of college when the leaves are just beginning to fall in a small contained indian summer frenzy, is guaranteed to cause delays and when you encounter them in another throng when you reach your home terminal, expecting to meet a seasoned long island driver, salty and insouscient, ready to crack a bullwhip like a lion tamer and herd them on board and for you to get released, but be instead told that you will board for long island is enough to cause panic and genuine sheer dread when your trip will take you to that island and down amongst those highways and those tiny streets with a 45 foot bus... in the dark... and in the rain.
in the dark when you have to read your half forgotten notes and route instructions by the glaring light of the drivers light that blots out any sight from the windshield, it can make you late and it made the passengers late and well, see above about what i've already said about lateness. one guy in particular wasn't too happy. he was going to our last stop, huntington. it seemed that he had a phone call to make or receive every thirty seconds and they would all begin the same way, 'yeah, i'm still on the bus... ' this said with a droning, i'm about to go crazy sort of ennui. yeah, i am too, i thought. i noticed a pattern to his calls, they got progressively more suicidely let down and pissed off in a sort of rich 19 year old with a bad pompadour of hair who was used to getting his own way. at one point he said that he didn't know why he didn't get off and take the paralleling to the road LIRR back home. neither did i. his conversations went like this.' yeah, i'm still on the bus. i don't know. maybe 10 o clock. maybe later. i've been on the bus since 3 o clock. (once more i felt like turning around saying that i've been on the bus since noon, what are you bitching about?) and then i heard' this is the worst (that word was drawn out in a yawning feel pity for me stretch...) worst experience of my life! (not one of my better ones either, pal...) and then he followed maybe six or seven calls up with the reminder to the listener that he had been on the bus for 7 hours and then an hour later, that figure became 9 hours and about ten minutes after that, it was up to 10 hours. (hell, i could do that standing on my head!) and then i had to drive back home. arguably not the worst experience of that night, but getting to islip was like getting passed the baton in a marathon. i still had to run for miles. but i felt better when i crossed the throgs neck and looked at the massive rusting columns of the sky blue beams and out into that expanse of dark dark night blue water and thought of the atlantic and the many miles that i had already come. i was off the island.

pet peeves

so someone locked me out of the bus this afternoon at the station. i had stopped long enough, running a bit late for new york and two people needed to get off and buy tickets as the agent at the previous stop had already closed. when this happens and it has frequently because people procrastinate and fiigure that they can hand you a twenty or two and say i don't have a ticket, can i just give you this? first off, twenty bucks isn't enough for the trip to new york and second with cash fares, it becomes my responsibility to buy their tickets later on my time, so no dice. money doesn't fly with me. tickets please. but back to the moment. coming in, i reminded the two that they needed to buy tickets, everyone else be patient, we're leaving asap and the ONLY two people who needed to get off the bus here were the two who hadn't tickets. EVERYONE ELSE STAY ON THE BUS! normally there is an exodus anyways, do i have time to use the ladies room? no, there's one on the bus, can i just get a soda? shoulda thought of it earlier. i'm hungry, about to pass out, can i just go across the road to the friendly's? nope. but only two got off and i was lucky. two got back on and handed me tickets and i closed the door again and walked away to ask the dispatcher a question... one minute later, i'm back and i'll be damned if the door doesn't open. the air goes whoosh and the door stops as though its locked, but i knew that i didn't lock it, couldn't have with the one faultily cut key for this bus that i have. try again. whoosh and click, whoosh and click. ok, so i'm feeling like a captain just thrown off in a mutiny and i'm wondering how to get back on, i even try my key and it fits, but doesn't turn. an old lady sitting up front notices me (and probably everyone else too...) and gets up and i motion for her to try the door button inside, she studies the panel carefully, the glass is soundproof and i try to motion a circle with my finger as its round (and i am giving no further hints as to how to open the door from inside as its hard enough to keep people on board...) and i'm hoping that she doesn't release the parking brake when another man gets up and unlocks the door from inside and explains that someone had gotten up and was fiddling with the door trying to get off while i was gone and must have locked it from inside. i got back on and gave everyone my best captain bly scowl to quell any further mutinous thoughts.
and then as i drove to new york, i thought that this was the perfect time to begin a pet peeve list.
number one... please stop asking every bus driver, especially if we enter the bus terminal from the south if we are heading to new york. as i've said earlier, it's a little bit of vindictive fun to be able to say, nope, but i came from new york. why do you want to go there? it's our most frequent question.
number two... please stop asking me the most arcane questions about schedules. going to new york a couple of days ago and a girl in new paltz asks if i'm going to hemstead, long island. nope, new york. when will the 6.20 bus be here? i look at me watch, its 6.05. probably in about 15 minutes, i say. is it here yet, she asks? as far as i can see, i'm the only bus in the entire terminal that can hold three buses at most and we've already eliminated me. nope, i say. please read a schedule. woman asks me today if our company traveled to pennsylvania. no, i tell her. she asks how i'd get there. probably take a bus to new york and catch a greyhound i tell her. do you know their schedules? no, i do not know greyhound schedules for the continental u.s.
number three, if you are on the bus and think that you see someone trying to flag me down when all that they are in reality doing is swinging their arms and walking or getting ready to cross the street, please do not scream as if your life depended on it, bus driver! bus driver! i think that they want you to stop! i had this happen to me once in thick two lane traffic and so scared me that this womans (and mine) life almost depended on it. and please do not wait to flag me as i am almost 100 feet from you and doing 65. this is not a ferrari and i cannot do really cool 180s and burn rubber.
number four, drivers please do not change lanes, decide to swing off the road onto a tiny shoulder or otherwise sneak into my blind spot on the thruway at the last minute. this goes along with the above comment. a 20 ton bus doesn't have the same handling characteristics as a sports car or even a minivan (better than a minivan, actually...). i cannot stop fast. i cannot accelerate fast and i cannot always decide whether or not losing my job is worth crumpling your lexus suv against the guard rail.
number five, when you are driving on a three lane highway and the signs state that trucks, buses and trailers are not allowed in the left lane, please do not decide that driving in the middle lane is a perfect place to putter along at 55 in a 65. sorry, you belong in the slow lane, the far right lane and the middle lane is now my passing lane, not the far right lane that i usually have to pass the suburu outbacks with jersey plates or the ford windstars with 400 pounds of camping gear loaded on top of them like a pack mule. sorry too, if you are doing 65 in a 65, that's still no place for you. i'm no speed demon (can't be even if i wanted to be, the buses are all governed to a set speed limit...) but i will haul as much ass as the bus and the state troopers will allow, usually 72, 73 in a 65 and i pass volvos like they are standing still.
and oh yeah, speaking of this and past holiday weekends, if you have to away (and what's wrong with staying at home and spending some quality time with family?) please try driving an alternate route for a change. why does everyone insist on taking the thruway and only the thruway? its not faster when you are stuck in bumper to bumper traffic and are averaging 12 mph. try taking the family wagon on a back road. invest in a map and explore and then the poor ole bus driver who cannot do that (but would love to drive the bus down a dirt road for a change) won't have so much traffic to deal with on the only route that he's allowed to drive on. c'mon folks. route 66 died because of this reason.
ok, its late and this driver has to get up early and think of more pet peeves on this working holiday.

please listen to the bus driver

why doesn't anyone listen to me when i make my announcements? well, they do, but not often enough. twice this past week, i've had to have words with people over the usage of cell phones on the bus. my normal spiel usually goes through the normal safety gamut of 'staying seated until the coach has come to a full and complete stop,' holding onto the seatbacks while getting up to use the restroom and claiming their baggage from only the right hand side and the sort of glad handing stuff too, like thanks for riding my bus company, but the bit that i throw in about cell phone use, while it is company policy, is a compromise of mine own. i tell people that the use of cell phones is prohibited aboard this coach, BUT and I throw in a big drawn out BUT, that if they must make or take a call that they can do so, while i realise that there are circumstances that you have to use a phone in public, BUT that they must do so in a manner that shows courtesy and respect to their fellow passsengers, that is, i add, for people who can't take a hint or read between the lines that they must keep their calls short and speak softly. i try, i do try to keep everyone happy and walk a fine line, but like abe himself said, you can't please all the people all the time, but some of them sometimes...
so, both offenders were on trips outta new york and the confines of the city and maybe people were calling their kin and looking to get home and couldn't wait, but... the first girl sat in the front seat behind my head and got a phone ring, ok. and promptly began to tell the caller about her experience of 'getting jumped and me and so and so got 'fist-fightin''. ok. 'but jimmy was the boy and he is my man and he stood up for me...' blah, blah, blah, ok. so cell phone conversations in public are a pet peeve of mine, especially when i have to sit and drive while my mind tries to mentally fit in the missing part of the one way conversation that you can hear and and driving a 20 ton bus should take up the majority of my concentration and not the details of a gang jumping. and then i began to relent in my outrage and sort of let her call go. the bus wasn't crowded, she wasn't near too many people and for the majority of the phone call, she just listened to the caller speak to her and mutely spoke yes or no every thirty seconds or so. ok. but then the second call came and this one was much like the first, yes or no now and then. ok. then the third call and she began to get a little more animated and i began to feel outraged again. here my good grace was being taken advantage of and she had to have heard my announcement leaving the port authority.
we neared the harriman exit when i handed her a company card outlining what i had said about cell phones but in a more direct way and asked her to keep it down and curtail the phone call because it was not allowed. i had thought about announcing it on the loudspeakers and publicly shaming her, but i relented. and so did she. i found the company cell phone policy card left on the floor after the trip. the second call came from two asian travelers who didn't seem to speak much english and granted, maybe they could not understand my announcement, but receiving a loud ring at 10pm and speaking out loud at the top of your voice in a foreign tongue (which is sort of worse when you can hear only something that you can't understand and can't fill in the other half, it becomes just so much gibberish...). harriman again and this time i was a bit louder. speaking into the darkness behind me i said with the full intention of shaming this non- English speaking or not, still rude man in front of the bus that could he please keep the phone level down and cut it short? it ended abruptly. i'm not sure if he just hung up on the caller or not, but it was over like that and then i started to feel a little bad. had i interrupted something important? nah. but i still cannot figure out why people think that they can ignore the announcement. what if i had said they had to jump ship by opening the windows at their destination because i was planning on blowing the bus up as soon as i slowed down to 30mph? i guess that i wouldn't go alone.
and then there are the people who have no sense of direction or who follow you blindly like sheep. one night i was on a drive to utica, the bus' destination sign brightly and cheerily lit up with the black and white blaring letters u-t-i-c-a. i pulled up at a flag stop heading north and people on the other side of the road facing south came running desperately. i got off the bus and they yelled across the road, are you going to new york? i yelled back, and pointed in my direction. i'm going north, to utica! and then pointed in the other direction that i had come from, new york is south, that way! but i get this all the time. i drive into a station with the kingston destination sign on after a long day on the road and spent walking around the port authority and people ask me, are you going to new york? i get a special kind of glee being able to say, no, i CAME from new york. i am NOT going to new york. and then there are the people who put themselves completely in your hands. a couple of days ago a guy wearing large headphones and obviously listening to music handed me a ticket. it read new paltz-kingston-woodstock. i was heading to new york and already a bit miffed at this fact and a bit more by the fact that when i said hi, how are you to him, he completely ignored me behind the silence of his headphones and shoved the ticket into my hand. i looked at his ticket, tore nothing off and handed it back. i'm going to new york, not woodstock, i told him. he started walking towards the bus door, blindly, missing this important fact that i was heading in the opposite direction that he was. hey, this isn't the bus you want! i snapped. next time take off your headphones and we can have a conversation! he didn't hear this either. i wonder where he is now. i could have a destination sign up for honolulu or kiev and people would still get on.
so, ladies and gentlemen, please the next time that you ride a bus, please, please, please listen to me... and yourselves... or we may go up in flames together or you may end up on the moon.