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Old 06-23-2005, 11:28 AM   #1
Eliza Hodgkins 1812
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Join Date: Jan 2005
Location: Long Beach
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My bus driver made me cry this morning.

"Good morning!" I chirped, because I'm a happy morning person.

And then I proceed to insert $3 into the machine; the cost of the day pass. I put in one dollar bill and 8 quarters. And then I stand, smiling, waiting for him to hand me my pass.

"What?"

"Um, I need my pass."

He stares at me and doesn't move.

"I paid for a day pass."

"No you didn't. You only paid $1.75."

"Yes, I did. I put in $3.00...."

There is a small computer consule with a screen attached to the vending machine that accepts the money. He angrily thrusts it towards me so it bends in a way that I can see the screen which shows the inccorect amount I submitted.

"I put in a dollar and 8 quarters!" I get a little high-pitched here because he's scaring me with how upset he is. And I don't want to have to pay more money and I really don't want him to tell me to get off his bus, because I'm not sure how I'll react, and I've seen these kinds of scenes on busses before and they're awful.

"You calling me a liar?!"

"You're calling me a cheat!" I'm very earnest here. Seriously. The guy was managing to make me feel just god awful and knee high. "I put in $3.00. I ride this bus almost every day. I always pay the right amount. I'm not making this up. The computer has made a mistake. It happens sometimes."

"You should show me the money first!"

He is still visibly agitated when he hands me the pass just to get me to go away, and as I'm walking down the aisle he's barking things at me I can't really make out, but I think it was something to the effect of, "You should get a monthly pass," but I also think there was some especially nice stuff about liars and scammers, etc. It was really upsetting. I wish I could have found the funny in it at the time, but none of the other bus riders seemed fazed by what had happened at all and I felt like everyone thought I was a lying cheat giving the driver a hard time.

If he'd said, "The computer is only registering 1.75. I get in trouble if the till doesn't balance, so even if it's a mistake, could you please make up the difference this time," I probably would have paid extra and grumbled to myself about how that was my morning's coffee expense. What's infuriating is that when they do the math at the end of the day, it WILL show that more money is in the till than what the computer will have totaled, so he'll be just fine. And I bet he won't give a **** that he gave me such a hard time this morning. Or that I spent the next ten minutes crying at my seat because I really don't deal with people yelling at me all that well. It's some kind of nervous release, I guess.

I grew up in a bickering family. Voices raised more often so we could be heard over each other rather than in genuine anger. And the few times I got into angry screaming matches with my parents or brother, I cried afterwards every time, out of frustration and guilt mostly. The apologies were usually quickly exchanged. A woman I really like yelled at me at work once. I very calmly but forcefully told her, as I got a wee bit teary, that she was never to speak to me that way again. That I didn’t deserve it, nor do I handle it particularly well. She can get upset. She can tell me so. But don’t ever yell at me again. She was responsive to this and we both calmed down, and so the floodgates never really did open.

I can be such a wussy pants. Times like these I almost deserve the unfair reputation I had in elementary school as a cry baby, but Morrigoon can tell you, Egremont kids were the DEVIL spawn of the Father of Lies, himself. They could be mean and the cliques were fierce. So if I cried, most likely it was a well earned cry. Like the time my brother “accidentally” slammed the car door on my head, and the last thought before I died was, “He’s killed me. He’s killed me! My own brother!” I’m fairly certain that crying saved my life that day! I had will left enough left in me for that, no matter that my brain had been viced! Well, crying AND the accusation I screamed at him as he turned, pale faced with fear and shock, to apologize, “YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!!!!”

“No, I didn’t! I didn’t!”

“DAD!!!!”

“Oh, he did not. It was an accident. You’re fine. Time to go to school.”

“He could have killed me!” I was still screaming. I’m sure I was drawing all kinds of negative attention to myself. And that negative attention taught me a valuable lesson: It does nothing for your reputation or the esteem of strangers to throw tantrums. Ever. Even when you’re in the right about something and that A$$HOLE bus driver can’t just be a nice mother fvcker about it!

So, I remained calm today. And, like a good lil’ cry-baby, cried at my seat. Big fat tears of frustration and indignation and “That mean man hurt my feelings!”
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