Missing the Stop

Missing the Stop

I went to Zelig’s shiva tonight. (By the way, I find shiva visits terribly frustrating. The person I want to see the most isn’t there, and never will be again.)

The bus stop where I waited for the bus home is a bit strange—or, more accurately, the route gets a bit strange there. The bus turns onto the street (at one of the biggest intersections in the city, incidentally), stops at the bus stop, turns right and proceeds to go in a large circle. Some minutes later, it turns back onto the same street, but doesn’t stop at the stop this time. Instead, it turns left, up the hill toward the center of town.

Got that so far? Good.

So I’m waiting at the stop for quite some time, and when the bus I’m waiting for finally shows up, the driver catches my eye... and goes on by without stopping.

At this point I have a choice: I can wait twenty minutes for the next bus, or I can hike up the hill to the next stop and hope that I get there before the bus finishes its circle down below.

I decided to take the gamble and head up the hill. Luckily, I got there in time.

When the bus came, I got on and asked the driver: “Why didn’t you stop back there?”

“Go sit down,” he ordered.

I wasn’t having any of that. I insisted, “You saw me. You knew I was there. Why didn’t you stop?”

He ignored me.

All right, I thought. Act like a jerk, pay the jerk tax. Aloud I said, “I want your name and personal number, please.”

He pushed a button on his ticket machine and printed out a small slip of paper. It contained his employee number, but not his name.

I went to the bus company’s website and filled out a complaint form. We’ll see what happens.