moon shuttle

the hopkins/homewood shuttle, the big white bus that i take to and from work for free everyday, has been mayhem since school started. i don't know what the deal is, but the lines of people waiting for the bus have started wrapping around the block, looking like the lines people wait in for tickets to an aerosmith concert (does aerosmith still have concerts? i don't know. also, does stephen tyler have a blue teardrop tattoo on his face? i was wondering that yesterday. michael told me this weekend that when people have those tattoos it means they've killed someone.).

these long lines have translated into a lot of crazy people pushing their way onto the bus, packing themselves like sardines into the un-air-conditioned space. this morning was no different. i was trying to place myself above myself--listen to my music, breathe deeply, not get too irritated. as the bus started to pull away this morning, though, a man--an idiot man--who somehow couldn't tell that the shuttle was already packed to capacity, ran alongside the bus, past people who were also waiting, knocking on the front door. not watching where he was going, he ran clear off the curb and fell out of sight. he totally fell down.

i'd like to say that my first thought was oh no! i hope he didn't fall under the wheel! or i hope he's not hurt too badly! it wasn't. my first reaction was to glance at my watch, annoyed, and hope that i still had time to get coffee.

two med students rushed off the bus to the man's aid. the bus driver (cracketta herself) ambled off the bus, half-smoked unlit cigarette in hand, to assess the situation, then informed everyone on the packed-to-capacity bus that we'd have to unload and try to fit on the already-full bus behind us. about 1/3 of us--those who had gotten on the shuttle in mt vernon--got on the second shuttle. all the others, those who ride from homewood and always frown at us as we hold up their progress downtown, had to wait for another bus to come.

it's never easy, this working life, and it's never boring (what!?).