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It’s Obviously The Girls’ Fault For Having Legs

, , , | Romantic | February 6, 2019

There was a boy on my school bus who was at least four years older than me. He always gave me the creeps and I hated seeing him in the bus window every day. Whenever any girl boarded the bus, he would scoot to the edge of the seat and put his hand out. The aisles weren’t wide so more often than not, he would brush their legs as they passed. Of course, the bus driver never saw it because of the girls’ legs blocking her view, so there was nothing she could do but to tell the boy to keep his hands to himself again and again.

My younger sister was in first grade when she started riding the bus with me; I was about ten years old at the time. She never wanted to board first because she didn’t want the boy to touch her. I always walked through first, putting my backpack between my legs and his arm. She scurried behind me, trying to stay out of his reach.

One day, we didn’t see him in the window so we thought he wasn’t riding that day. My sister went first, only to see the boy crouched between the seats, hand at the ready. She backed up, refusing to go forward. The bus driver told her to keep moving, despite her protests and asking the driver to tell the boy to go back to the window. I warned the driver that if he touched either of us, I would hit him. The bus driver told us to go, the boy grinning.

My sister tried to run by the boy. I watched him stick his hand out just as she passed, grabbing her upper inner thigh (and possibly touching other parts, but she never said) and squeezing. She screamed and ran to her seat.

I don’t really remember the next part, but the bus driver and the boy both said I basically went feral. I swung my backpack at the boy, screaming “PERVERT!” and screeching at the top of my lungs. The bag hit the boy on top of the head, then upward to catch him under the chin. I pulled back for another blow when the driver grabbed me and shoved me back down the aisle.

When we got to school, the boy’s parents, my parents, the guidance counselor, and the police were all there. His parents were threatening to press charges against everyone on the bus and the school. Several other girls who rode the same bus barged in the office and told their stories. His parents stopped threatening to sue and instead argued he shouldn’t be punished because he had an undiagnosed learning disability and didn’t know what he was doing.

I was suspended from school for a whole week and told to write an apology to the boy and his family. My parents enlisted extended family and changed their schedules to drive us to school until I got my license at 16.

The boy was punished by being moved to an assigned seat directly behind the bus driver. I never got my apology, but I wasn’t forced to write one either.

About fifteen years after all this happened, I came back to my hometown and decided to attend a carnival. When we got to the gate, my sister shrunk behind me. I looked up and locked eyes with the same boy, taking money and stamping hands at the entrance. He turned dead white and excused himself before darting in the bathroom. He didn’t come out until after we left. I saw him walking the grounds while we were there, but he never approached us.

Knowledge Starved

, , | Learning | March 8, 2018

Child #1: “Ugh. I am so hungry, I’m Hank Marvin.”

Child #2: “Who’s Hank Marvin?”

Child #1: “I dunno, some scientist who discovered foods.”

I Will Catch Them All, And Mexico Will Pay For It

, , , , | Learning | September 15, 2017

(Two third-graders are trading Pokémon cards on the bus and are just getting off when I hear this gem:)

Student: “Donald Trump is like ‘Mr. Mime’ because he makes walls.”

Driver Is Bus-ted

| 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 5

| 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.)