Unfiltered Story #89873

, , | Unfiltered | June 17, 2017

I don’t know why, but while I was in third grade I had two umbrellas in my book-bag. They were the kinds that pop out at the push of a button. We were riding home on the school bus and it was raining heavily outside. My friend who was seated next to me was concern about the fact that she did not have an umbrella. I felt that sense I had two, I can lend her one. One of them was almost brand new. The other was older. In deciding, I felt that it would be polite to lend my friend the new one.

She got off at her stop before my stop came. As I was about to get off, I first pointed my umbrella out to open it. I pushed the button.

It did what it was suppose to. It did open up. Except that it kept going like I had a trick umbrella like the Penguin. I had to run out into the rain the re-attach it to the base. The kids on the bus laughed at my expense. Even I had to laugh. I realized at that moment that it was a good thing I lent my friend the new one.

Driver Is Bus-ted

| Germany | Friendly | August 2, 2016

(Our town provides a school bus for children from the northern part of town, as walking to school would take us more than half an hour each way due to the altitude difference between the north and south part and a forest area between the two parts of town. It is Friday, after school, as we’re approaching the last stop. None of the children have done any damage to the bus or dirtied it an any abnormal way. It is snowing, so some road salt and muddy snow might have been dredged in but that’s to be expected.)

Bus Driver: *stops the bus in the woods, a few hundred meters before the last stop and gets out a garbage bag, paper towels, and a spray cleaner* “No one gets out before this bus is clean.”

(We first think he is joking but he isn’t. The bus isn’t going anywhere.)

Bus Driver: “The bus won’t clean itself. GET TO IT!”

(We are pretty intimidated by the driver, and start to scrub the seats and floor with the paper towels and empty the little trash cans into the garbage bag, all the while he is ranting about “useless little brats who make everything go to s***” with expletives I’d rather not translate. He finally drives the last few hundreds meters and lets us out after inspecting our work. I am about half an hour late and quite shaken, so my mom immediately asks what’s going on. My dad gave a friendly call to the bus company:)

Dad: “I would like to inquire if this was a new company-sanctioned policy and if my daughter should bring rubber gloves next time she takes the bus.”

(Unsurprisingly, this never happened again and next time we saw the driver, he was very subdued and just muttered “getting their way no matter what” under his breath.)

Blind To Reason, Part 2

| Austin, TX, USA | Learning | June 12, 2016

(There is a blind kid that always rides home on the same bus as I do. His house is in the direction of one of the stops so our driver always stops right in front of his house to make it easier for him. One day we have a substitute driver who drives past his house.)

Me: “Excuse me, driver, you needed to stop to let [Blind Kid] off the bus.”

Driver: “But that’s not a scheduled stop.”

Me: “Yes, but [Usual Driver] always stops in front of his house.”

Blind Kid: “Yeah, every day he stops—”

Driver: “Well, too bad. I’m not gonna stop at just one person’s house. You’re just gonna have to get off at an actual stop. Stop being lazy, and walk home.”

Blind Kid: “Please, I really prefer you stop.”

Everyone Else On The Bus: “Yeah, please stop!”

Driver: “FINE. Which house do you live in?”

Blind Kid: “I live at [Address].”

Driver: “We already passed that. I’m not gonna turn around just for you.”

(Note: the street we’re on ends at a cul-de-sac so the driver would’ve had to turn around anyway.)

Blind Kid: “Just turn around and go back to [Address].”

Driver: *clearly furious* “ALL RIGHT, FINE!” *turns around and stops at [Blind Kid]’s house* “Here you go!”

Blind Kid: *angrily* “Thanks!” *gets off*

Driver: “I swear you kids are so lazy these days. Why couldn’t he just get off at a normal stop and walk home?!”

Me: “Because he wouldn’t know where to go. He’s blind and can’t see where he’s going. The whole reason [Usual Driver] stops in front of his house is because he wouldn’t know where to go otherwise. We all tried to be polite about it but you wouldn’t turn the bus around at a street where you would’ve had to turn around anyway.”

(Turned out one of the other students told the principal what happened and the driver got fired for not caring for a passenger’s disability. Blind Kid, wherever you are, I hope you are doing well.)

Related:
Blind To Reason

Makes You Want To Hit The Bottle

| Lexington, KY, USA | Learning | April 26, 2015

(Our fourth grade class is on a field trip, and we’re all singing “This Is the Song That Never Ends”. This goes on for nearly ten minutes before the teacher looks like she’s had enough.)

Teacher: “All right, how about we pick a song that DOES end, okay?”

(We promptly started singing ‘100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.’ I wonder why she quit after that year.)

Not Painting A Pretty Picture

| UT, USA | Friendly | March 7, 2015

(I grew up in rural Utah. The society is pretty standoff-ish to non-Mormons in these small towns, which is basically everywhere but the Salt Lake City area.)

Me: *showing off something I drew on my hand during class* “Look, [Cousin]! I think I did pretty good with this one!”

Devout Friend: *makes a face* “I don’t believe in paint-balling temples.”

Me: *thinking she meant it literally* “Oh no! When did that happen? That’s horrible that someone would do that!”

Cousin: “…she means you drawing on your hand. Mormons think your body is a temple and drawing on it is defiling it.”

(I didn’t say anything but the most annoying part is that she knew I wasn’t one of them. I had made the mistake of calling her years before on a Sunday morning to ask if we could play because I was bored and she called me back in tears saying how she wanted my soul to be saved. She’s more tolerant now, but she was known for these things when younger.)

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