Some People Will Make Ice Cream Out Of ANYTHING

, , , , , | Friendly | April 19, 2021

I am on a bus waiting to take me back to my cruise ship when a very sophisticated European lady sits down with an ice cream cone. A very southern lady from the USA is seated behind her.

American Lady: “That ice cream cone looks sooo good! What kind is it?

The European lady answers in a heavy accent.

European Lady: “Mango.”

The southern lady looks very shocked as she repeats what she thinks she heard.

American Lady: “Mountain goat?!”

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It’s A Bus STOP, Not A Bus Fly-By

, , , , | Working | April 14, 2021

I have a car but decided to try using the bus to be green. It’s a cold February and I’m sitting on the metal bench, waiting for my bus to come. Lots of buses fly by with “out of order” electric signs.

Finally, after an hour, I get tired and decide to call a taxi. Just then, a bus with an “out of order” sign stops, flings its doors open, and the driver says, “This is 2A.” My bus!

I start to get up, but to my horror, I’m literally frozen to the bench! My legs aren’t moving and I panic. I call out, “Wait!”

But he’s already closed the doors and is flying away. After a few tries, I get up and hobble around to warm up. I call a taxi to get home and decide to use my car from now on. At least I don’t have to worry about freezing to the seat! I don’t want to even think about how they treat disabled people who can’t walk fast.

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The Kids Are Out For Blood

, , , , , , , | Friendly | March 28, 2021

I am taking a bus home from college. It is around a four-hour trip, and unfortunately, the bus is both late at night and has some short plastic chairs, rather than the big soft chairs you see on some buses. So, I have to just lean my back against the window and try to get as comfortable as I can to try and sleep a bit.

The bus has started moving, and I am just starting to doze off when I feel a sudden sharp pain in my ear. I jerk awake and flail a bit, hitting the source of the pain: a young kid who is standing up on his mom’s lap in the seats behind me, and who had leaned forward to BITE MY EAR.

Naturally, the kid starts bawling after getting hit by my flailing arm, and the mom starts screeching.

Mom: “How dare you hit my—”

I’m not really paying attention, instead reaching up to touch my ear, and when I pull my finger away, it is slick with blood. I hold up my bloody fingertips.

Me: “What the h***?!”

Mom: “You can’t just—”

Me: “Why weren’t you—”

We are both shouting over each other at that point, and most of the people on the bus have turned to look. I start to stand up, aiming to stumble up to the front and see about using the first aid kit I’d seen next to the driver. The lady lunges forward, I guess to try and grab me, and I end up batting her hand away and then winding up a punch. At that point, she lifts up her still-bawling kid, apparently to use him as a human shield.

I don’t punch, just grab my bag and stumble to the front amid quite a few glares from some of the other passengers. I get to the front just as the driver finishes pulling over due to the commotion, and the lights come on as he puts the bus in park.

Bus Driver: “What’s going on back here?”

I raise my voice a bit over the woman’s attempts to shout out her version of events. 

Me: “Her kid bit me.”

I tilted my head to show him, and he actually recoiled, because it turns out that the kid had managed to actually tear the top of my earlobe when he bit down and I jerked away. He headed past me to talk to the woman, and an older lady ended up pulling me to sit by her as she used the first aid supplies to fix up my ear as best she could. The lady was still screaming, but most of my focus was stolen by the pain from the antiseptic wipes.

In the end, the driver walked back up past me and started up the bus. The kid kept crying for a good section of the trip but eventually quieted down. I kept glancing back occasionally, and of course, the woman was glaring at me each time, so once the trip finally ended, I hurried to be the first off the bus. I got down and got my luggage from the compartment underneath, and I was turning to go try to find my parents in the parking lot when I spotted something moving toward me out of the corner of my eye.

It was the kid, charging headlong toward me. I jumped back, which meant that when he went to kick my shin, he ended up falling on his butt, instead. Naturally, his mother was right there to start screaming again, so I turned and booked it. I basically dove into my parent’s van when I saw them in the parking lot, and we drove off.

I didn’t end up telling them about what had happened until we were already home; it was dark enough that they hadn’t seen the bandage on my ear. They were both ready to drive back down and see if they could find the woman, and they gave me an earful about how I should have gotten contact details from the driver and such and talked to the police to make sure my side was on record. I ended up spending most of that break paranoid that the lady would show up with the cops to arrest me for hitting her kid or something. Thankfully, they weren’t on my return bus, and I never saw them again.

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Let’s Just Stick To Google Earth From Our Couch

, , , , | Working | March 3, 2021

Years ago, my mother and I went on a one-week bus tour across part of the United States. We had a tour guide who was worse than useless. For example, her idea of introducing us to a new city was to hand out brochures on fun things to do in that city as we were leaving. This particular story stands out, though.

We arrived in [City], where we were scheduled to attend an outdoor play that evening.

Tour Guide: “We’re going to a very fancy restaurant before the play, so make sure you dress up!”

We all put on the nicest things we’d brought. Some people really had some expensive clothes, too — much nicer than I would have brought on a bus tour, but I digress.

The bus arrived on time to drive us to the restaurant, but there was no sign of [Tour Guide].

Bus Driver: “She said she’d meet you there.”

Okay, fine.

We got to the restaurant, only to find that it wasn’t due to open for another hour. The bus had already left, so there was nowhere to sit, and it was EXTREMELY hot. Many of the tourists were elderly and looked like they were about to faint. [Tour Guide] finally showed up as the restaurant was opening, which makes me think that SHE knew its hours of operation. Too bad she didn’t share them with us. She ignored how miserable we all looked.

Tour Guide: *Brightly* “Okay! Let’s go have dinner! You’ll love this place. It’ll probably be one of the best meals you ever had.”

We got inside, and… it was a cafeteria — the kind where you grab a plastic tray and choose your food from a cold case or order a hot entrée from the folks standing behind the counter. All of us looked at each other in our finery and raised our eyebrows. We were all thinking, “We got dressed up for THIS?”

After a very mediocre meal, we got to the play which, as I mentioned, was outdoors and therefore in the heat. At least we got to sit down! Oh, and the play was The Passion Play. Neither my mother nor I were remotely religious and hadn’t realized beforehand what it was about. We were bored to tears.

For that reason and many others, Mum sent a furious letter to the tour company when we got home, and they offered her a free shoulder bag — with their logo on it, naturally — as an apology. Mum told them politely where they could stick their free advertising.

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All Aboard The Guilt Bus!

, , , , , | Working | February 18, 2021

This takes place at the beginning of spring before masks become mandatory in my province but are still recommended in public, confined places. I am running late for the bus and have my mask in my hand as I sprint to the bus stop. The driver sees me running, stops the bus, and waits for me.

I board the bus and dig in my pocket to get some change. I haven’t put my mask on yet, as I find it hard to breathe through it when running. The drivers have these huge plastic curtains for these situations. This driver has his curtain pulled to the side, put away.

Driver: “Hi, how’re you today?”

As I put change in the terminal:

Me: “Great. Running a little late, though. Thanks for waiting.”

Driver: “Yeah, you can show your gratitude by not killing my grandma.”

He makes a gesture to his own paper mask. I chuckle awkwardly, putting on my cloth mask.

Me: “Don’t worry, sir. I’m not planning on doing that.”

The driver mumbled an apology and didn’t say anything for the rest of the ride.

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