Stalled out on LSD

Today, I was on the 135 cruising down Lake Shore Drive, and the double-length bus I was on kept stalling out. Without a word to the passengers from the bus driver, the bus would just shudder, slow down and then ultimately come to a stop. The electronic signs would fade out, and the air conditioning halted...and we all looked around wondering what was happening.

Naturally, I had no seat and was standing at the back of the bus, hanging over more comfortable passengers while I tried to balance a book bag and a paperback without landing in granny's lap.

The bus driver got the bus working (still no kind updates from her) and we chug on. Only to stall out not 300 yards later.

Again, the passengers wonder (now, aloud to each other) what was up.

The air went off, we began to sweat and the bus started to smell like a riot about to be caused.

Finally, she gets the old boy going again and we continue our less-than-3-mile journey to Wacker Drive.

And, yes, the stalling happens a third time (why are we surprised? Don't all things happen in threes?) and this time the bus driver (bless her heart) gives up. No words to us, but the doors open and people just start climbing off.

Onto the side of the road. On Lake Shore Drive.

Cars honking, people glaring, and traffic whizzing by, we stand in the small triangle grass median and wait for a rescue bus. Which, incidentally, wasn't far behind. Opens the doors, lets us on, and off we go.

Until we reach the Wacker and Columbus stop, where the rescue bus' doors don't close. Yep, even the rescue bus was broken.

Finally (after what seemed like 10 minutes), and with frustrated commuting abandonees leaving in droves through the wide-open back doors, we take off.

I made it to work in one piece, with a sense of humor about it all, but it was worthy of noting.