Most of the bus drivers seem to take a perverse delight in braking as sharply as possible and then accelerating for a minuscule distance only to brake sharply again. And please don't get me started on cornering techniques... As a result, I'm having to brace myself (if the bus is crowded, which it generally is) in order to avoid falling over, and my knee and ankle are really reacting badly. I have the ankle strapped with a tubigrip bandage, but the knee has to fend for itself.
Teaching is not a sedentary occupation... by the end of the day, I am in quite a bit of pain.
One of the buses I catch each day has a "Hail & Ride" section, where the driver is supposed to stop anywhere it is safe when someone flags it down. After a very long day, I decided that I would try and flag the bus down rather than limp all the way along to the next official bus stop. It meant a much longer wait, as two different routes stop at the official stop, but my ankle was really sore. I made sure that the spot was a safe one, and that there were no double yellow lines or any other prohibitive road markings, and I perched on a low wall to wait for the bus.
After about fifteen minutes, the bus turned the corner, and I signalled in plenty of time. The bus driver waved his hand as if to say "no chance," then pointed forward to the next bus stop... and drove past. Even if I'd been able-bodied and fit as a flea, I couldn't have gotten to the stop in time. I was not a happy bunny.
Not wishing to risk being ignored again (and knowing that the next Hail & Ride bus wasn't due until 20 minutes later) I limped over to the main bus stop... and was overtaken by one of the other buses...
When I arrived home, over an hour later, there was a beautiful sight to greet me. My little green Hyundai was sitting in the courtyard, and the key had been posted through my letterbox.
I have my car back... I promise to check the oil.
2 comments:
Glad you have the car back.
Helpful bus drivers can be scary too, however.
Whilst holidaying with a friend in Co Kerry, we had to flee to Dingle in an attempt to avoid a couple more enormous meals ( big dinners, then there's that extra snack at midnight...)from my Mother's cousins. On the way back we said which place we needed to get off at, then I unwisely indicated that the house was kinda now, on the main road between Killarney and Tralee and the driver did an emergency stop. Friend and I nearly went through the windscreen. But we didn't and lived to eat another couple of thousand calories!
Congratulations, Mac. Delighted your green voiture has retournee. You see, there is a God. And He is good. Bet Sylvester is pleased. He won't be confused with you hanging around so often and nicking his favourite sleeping spots.
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