After a relatively quiet commuting week, I figured it was time for something interesting to happen. I board a double-length bus this morning, move to the back to stand near the door. I'm teetering on new stiletto heel red boots (yes, they are fabulous) and don't want to stand the entire way, but I must.
The back doors are hanging at a strange angle, and won't seem to close all the way. They are electronic or powered or whatever you'd say about doors that are connected to the bus' electrical system, so the bus driver can't really leave without them closing properly. Door AJAR. Door AJAR. Or something like that.
I doubt it was for fear that the commuters would slide out and become well-dressed road kill on Lake Shore Drive, but I could be wrong.
Anyway, the bus driver gets out, walks to the back (on the outside) and nudges, prods, slams, pushes, pulls, bangs and kicks (he literally kicked them shut, like a 12-year old boy would) and, dejected, goes back to his perch.
No go.
Repeat the steps above.
Door #2 won't close. Just won't do it. Stubborn little sucker.
Driver gets on the microphone and says the dreaded words, "Passengers, you're gonna have to get off this bus. The doors are broke (his words, not mine) and you can't stay on."
Seriously? This keeps happening to me. If I had this much bad luck in automobiles, I'd be banned from them altogether.
We get off, race to the bus behind us, and begin piling on. I'm still standing.
Oh, and did I mention, this all happened right in front of my building? Hadn't even made it one inch towards work.
I think it was a sign that I should have gone back inside, past the doorman, up the elevator, and not passing go, gone back to bed.
Door #2 should have had a sign like THAT.
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