Bus Trauma on a Brake

The bus trauma is taking a back seat and yes, I did spell 'brake' like that on purpose. I told you there'd be a lot of puns in these, didn't I?

Hello. It’s been a fine minute, hasn’t it? Well, to be honest with you all – I haven’t been having any recent bus trauma, and while that makes me somewhat very relieved – it also makes me a tinge sad because I don’t have any traumatic ‘throw myself out of a window’ stories to share with you right now.

But I figured I still have the motivation to write and tell you how things have been on the bus recently. You see… what started this blog in the first place was me constantly messaging my friend Ella on the way to my Korean classes on a Thursday evening. I would tell her the oh no’s and woes of my bus trip that day. She told me I ought to start writing bus reviews because of how passionate I was about giving her the 411 on my weekly bus trips to various places.

Ah yes, I can imagine it now….

“Today I rode on bus number 72 to Korean class. It’s a green bus, so the trip takes about an hour but the view is quite scenic. The bus is usually filled with ajummas and ajusshis (middle age Korean men and women). I usually manage to get a seat at the front of the bus to myself. Today I did. It was comfortable. I’d give the seat itself a 7/10 and I’d give the trip 8/10 for being stress-free and for encountering a bus driver who apparently does not want to murder us all before we reach our destinations. Overall, a solid 7.5/10.”

That’s how my reviews would go. But from that idea, I had instead birthed this blog. (Yes, you’re welcome for the less than appealing analogy). To be honest, I often think about pretending to be a critic of some sort…that way, when I visit a place and I look like I mean business – people will take me seriously. I have ol’ Gordon in an episode of Kitchen Nightmares to thank for that. There was a food critic that had come to visit a restaurant and because she was blogging about the food, he told them to take her very seriously. Excuse me, but I want that in my life too! Now being a bus critic is going to get me near to nowhere. I'm aware of this. You think those bus drivers care about what I or anyone else has to say about their driving from hell? No, no they don’t and never ever will. But a fake food critic? I think I’m onto something here…. Let me just whip out my pen and paper while I pretend to taste things and know what I’m doing when I proceed to write down nonsensical words on my makeshift ‘critique’ paper about how good the eggs taste.

Feel free to snatch my idea and let me know how it goes (amused laughter). Anyway….

Because I moved schools this year, both my current schools are within a ten-minute walk from each other. So that means I get to take the same bus every single day to get to them (what a lucky dawg). That bus is lucky number 25. I also feel that my stop is nearer to the beginning of 25’s route, because the bus is hardly full in the mornings. In fact, it’s rather empty. Which means there’s absolutely no stress of me climbing over people to get to a seat like they’re some sort of jungle gym. No having to time myself when to get up in order to be ready to get off at my stop. No more making a fool of myself by somehow tripping, falling or hitting my head on the things that dangle for you to grab on to. (The amount of time I smack my head on these things should allow me to file a court case at this point.)

Ah… yes, it’s just me and about five other people at most on this bus in the morning. The bus drivers for this bus seem to be quite relaxed too. Maybe it’s because it’s not too chaotic at that point. Some of them do drive like they’re living out their best dream of being cast in 2006’s Need for Speed: Tokyo Drift, but I can’t complain because this ensures I get to school on time since the morning rush hour can often cause delays.

Getting home is a little different. It’s the same distance and the buses are not too chaotic but I have more options to choose from depending on their arrival times and when I make it to the bus stop. Bus 38, bus 25 and my good ol’ bus 16 - the bus that gave me a lot of trauma that I have since wrote about. However, because the trip isn’t long enough to have a traumatic incident (touch wood), I don’t have to worry about it. I’ll simply stand the whole of four stops if it means I can get off smoothly and avoid gut-wrenching embarrassment thankyouverymuch.

These buses all take the same route, so either one of them will go passed my stop. I usually take 25 since it’s usually the one arriving quicker than the others and so far, everything has been pretty darn pleasant. In fact, so pleasant that the only trauma I’ve experienced thus far is other people’s trauma.

I’ve seen a man turned away for not wearing a mask. (However, this was before the mask mandate on public transport had been void), I’ve seen two people get on, only to find out their cards didn’t have any credit. This either leads to them flailing around in their pockets for cash, getting off, or praying to the public transport gods that the bus driver isn’t going to kick them to the curb. One man even tried to offer his bought food to the bus driver, at least FOUR TIMES. He didn’t have any money, and the bus driver was kind enough to let him stay on the bus. Although that didn’t stop him from offering what appeared to be dried salami or tomatoes of some sort from the far distance. (I highly doubt it was either of these, but whatever it was, the bus driver did in fact NOT want it. Considering there’s a glass encasing him, it’s also not very easy to take what is being offered. It’s also probably against their policy. Bribery is never good my dear sir.

I often also get to see people bonk around too as they're getting off or getting on. I mean, this happens to me too...but I can at least get giddy about it - knowing that I'm not the only one often looking like a fool.

But that’s about as exciting as it gets. Sometimes when I travel downtown or to visit my friend, I anticipate any bus blog worthy experiences to share with you all, but alas – ‘tis very dry out here at the moment. Dry like the city stuck in a constant drought and on limited water supply. (No really, this city is running out of water – just like my hometown.) I make several jokes about it but either I’ve truly brought the drought curse with me or I can’t escape it. Either way, it’s rather unfortunate and I’m starting to think it’s no joke anymore.

I’m not sure which one I’d rather take my chances with; a city with a water shortage or Mad-Hatter bus drivers? Well, I don’t even need to choose. I get the best of both.

Until the next stop,

Bus Blog Driver Tay