You probably think Kassie
is the only one around this house who can make a lovely and amazing plate of food. She was hanging out with the Shock Monkeys this evening, so I was on my own for dinner.
Uh, so, any assumptions about who makes the pretty food around here are most likely valid.
I had a relatively interesting day on the 4 today.
A few blocks after I made relief, a lady needed to use the lift to exit the bus. I stopped the bus, opened the doors, put the transmission in neutral, engaged the emergency brake, turned on the lift, pushed the toggle switch to UP and... nothing happened. I fiddled around with it, but couldn't get it to work. Fortunately, she had a walker, not a wheelchair, and we were able to get her off the bus. I called for a new bus.
My northbound trip was uneventful. No news of a bus change. Then, early on my southbound trip, I stopped for a man who I know uses the lift. He's an older guy with a cane, and when he walks, it's obvious that he's in a lot of pain. I told him that my lift didn't work. He didn't want to wait half an hour for the next bus, so he slowly, slowly backed up the stairs on to the bus. I could tell he was on the verge of tears. I felt bad for him and I was kind of angry. I didn't really have anyone specific in mind with whom I was angry, but it's safe to say that the bus I was driving should be sitting out with the rest of the retired buses in the empty lot near I-94 and Snelling Avenue.
I eventually got a new bus, but of course, I didn't ever need to use the lift.
I drove by this mess
near the end of that southbound trip. It was rather disconcerting to see a dozen squad cars' worth of cops with shotguns and assault rifles hiding behind trees and corners of buildings.
And on my last trip, just after we detoured around the aforementioned circus, a regular rider came up to the front to report that a man was drinking a 40 in front of her children and she didn't think it was right. She mentioned that she was afraid that she'd be seen as a snitch.
And she was correct; it wasn't right. So I waited until we were almost to 50th and Bryant and called Control. I told them that I was going to give him a chance to get off the bus and then I requested the police. At 50th and Bryant, I made an announcement that if anyone had something with them that they might not want to cops to find, like say, something they might be drinking, they might want to get off the bus, finish it and wait for the next one. No one got up. But the guy with the beer turned around and looked at the lady who reported him. I announced that a squad was on its way and took off.
Two blocks later, the guy rang the bell and exited the bus. The lady thanked me. I thanked her.
It's pretty sad that the woman felt uncomfortable telling me that someone was doing something on the bus that they shouldn't be doing.
I'm not exactly sure why she was concerned. I've seen the Warn-a-Brother
and Stop Snitchin'
t-shirts. Perhaps she didn't want to give someone up to The Man. Or maybe she was scared about how he might react. Either way, I'm glad that she wasn't afraid to call that dude on his crap.
Of course, I also think it's sad that Drinky couldn't go forty-five minutes on a bus without alcohol...
Labels: bus, food