Tales from the bus: #4 The bus driver who saw me

Today, I went to the grocery store. I was on my way back, carrying a heavy bag, waiting to cross the street, when I saw my bus. It was about to turn onto the street I was crossing over to, and no one was waiting at the bus stop. It was going to get there before I did, and most likely not stop, leaving me to walk home with the heavy bag (it only runs every half hour) and feeling like I do when I *just* miss an opportunity.

So while I was waiting, I looked into the bus and caught the driver’s eye. Maybe he saw my desperation, maybe he had to wait anyway. But he looked back at me, and saw me. He waited. He stopped the bus, even though nobody was getting off. He waited until I got there, thirty seconds later, and started the bus again as soon as I got on. I thanked him, both when I got on and off (this I do usually anyway) the bus, and he didn’t even seem particularly bothered by it. He wasn’t expecting anything in return, not even gratitude.

I loved the gesture, his attitude, and it made my day.


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