Just Another Day

Note: this is a fictional tie-in to a previous and true piece of writing entitled 'My World, And Welcome To It'

     I wake up in the morning, if you wanna call it morning, around two. My shift starts at four, but I like to get showered and shaved with plenty of time to eat breakfast. Sarah says I like to get gussied up more than she does. I guess she got a point. I always says you gotta appreciate the little things. Ain’t nothin’ better than a good shave to start the day off.

     I love how Sarah presses my uniform. Every crease is crispy and clean, like a new dollar bill. I love drivin’. People’ll tell ya that when you do a job like mine, you start to hate doin’ what you get paid to do. I disagree. I love me some drivin’. Clears my head. Lets me meet new people.   There’s somethin’ ‘bout drivin’ a bus that just make everything nice. You know what route you got. You know where you gotta be and how you gonna get there. There’s a boy who always come on my bus in the summer. Every saturday, he there waitin’ at six thirty AM. He always eatin’ a sandwich or some toast or somethin’.

     Six thirty come, and sure enough, he waitin’ there for me, but somethin’s different. He ain’t got no toast. I see a lady with her young boy. He chewin’ on somethin’ with a big ole grin on his face. Well I’ll be damned. That right there is one o’ my favorite reasons for drivin’ the bus. I see people do good all up and down these streets. So rare to see people doin’ good this early in the morning. All the people climb on my bus; I gotta get to my next stop, no time for waitin’ on folks. I move my bus forward and the boy gets tossed forward.

     I drive my usual route, the city pass me by like it always do. I hear the roughed-up lookin’ girl in the back laughin. She with the six-thirty boy. He in a good mood today. He musta shaved this morning too.

     I stop on colfax and tenth avenue. Lotsa weird people on that street. Sarah says I should call ‘em different. So fine. Lotsa different people on that street. Today ain’t no exception. Big, scary lookin’ guy step on, pay his fee, and walk to the back. He got big shoulders and a nasty scratch on his face. He smudged my hand rail when he stepped on. I’mma have to clean that when I get a chance. Gotta keep my bus nice. Big guy takes a seat next to the roughed-up girl. I keep on my route. Ain’t no time for mindin’ other people’s business.

     Suddenly, the bus feels a little different. Ain’t no lightness in the air like just a little before. Somethin’ wrong. I stop and let the lady with her young boy off. They prob’ly goin’ to the soup kitchen on Lincoln. Next stop, six-thirty boy get off at his usual stop, right next to that theater. I been tellin’ ‘em to put a stop on Fourteenth and Curtis, but do they listen? Hell no. Not to me. When Six-thirty get off, he does somethin’ I ain’t never seen him do before. He turn and watch me drive away. He got a worried look on his face. I check my mirror, seein’ who still on board. If I ain’t got nobody, maybe I can get to cleanin’ that smudge on my rail.

     The roughed-up girl and Big Man still back there. She look tired. Dog-ass tired is what Sarah would say. She dog-ass tired. Big Man lookin’ her up and down like he ‘bout to get some, but Roughed-Up don’t look like she havin’ any of it. I keep on my route, Sixteenth street mall next. When I stop, she stand up to leave. He stand up too. He touchin’ her leg and she clutchin’ her purse close to her body as they step off. He smudge my rail again on his way out. Asshole.