From Woodbridge, Virginia: "The Drive To Do Good" (Not Always Right)

(I am a habitual rider of the local transit system that covers DC metro and northern VA. I board the bus to see a rider verbally assaulting the bus driver.)

Rider: “I don’t care about your timeline route. You were supposed to go to [street] to drop me off 45 minutes ago. That last driver missed my stop and your operator assured me I would be home on this bus by 6:25!”

Driver: “Ma’am, I cannot directly deviate from my route until I’m closer to your stop. To deviate now would be to leave any other potential riders along the route stranded in the cold. I am truly sorry that you are having a bad evening due to a coworker, and I’ll do what I can.”

(Read more here.)

From Richmond, Virginia: "Wheels on the Bus," by Karen

Of all the reasons to go to the RVA Street art Festival, and there are many, one of the very best is oral history.

Since this year's event is happening at the former GRTC bus depot, the exhibit is a natural.

(Read more here.)

From Dili, Timor-Leste: "the night bus to Dili," by Asakiyume

Every morning, a bus leaves the market in Dili, Timor-Leste's capital, and six hours later it arrives in Ainaro. Ainaro is only 70 miles away, but the road is rough and mountainous. (Read more here.)

From NYC: "Conversations On The Fifth Avenue Bus," by Susan Willet Bird

It's always interesting to see who you might meet on the bus.  Yesterday I talked with a woman I've nodded to many times as we passed each other jogging around the Central Park reservoir in early mornings.


It took us a minute to recognize each other yesterday, since each of us was dressed for work, not in our usual jogging shorts.  Once we started talking, I realized I had the privilege of making a remarkable new friend who comes from a fascinating family.

(Read more here.)

From Denver: "A Man And His Bird..." by tabdeans

The man was large, looked to be about 30 or so, and paced back and forth behind the bus stop shelter. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, waiting for him to swoop in when the bus pulled up and butt in line.

(Read the whole story here.)

From Portland, Oregon: "Here? No? Here?" [a Top Ten Bus Stories nominee], by Bill Reagan (posted on Trimet Diaries)

The man waiting on the corner had no way of knowing that the young woman’s bus ride had been thoroughly exasperating. He would have understood her exuberant leap from the bus if he had known how she spent the entire ride from downtown wondering if the next stop was hers, or the next, unsure if she was even close, wishing someone on the #35 spoke Japanese. But he didn’t know, and that’s why he got the wrong idea.

(Read more here.)

From Herriman, Utah: "Because I'm Selfish," by Greg Platt

I've met a lot of people who ride transit.  It kind of comes with the territory of riding transit.

Some people ride because of Global Warming. Or Global Climate Change. Or because Al Gore has them scared, I don't know. (I could have the discussion about the impact of humans on the global environment; I even teach a class where we discuss the relative merits of each side of the argument; this is not that discussion).

I admire those people. They see a problem, they see something they can do about it, and they do it. I find that laudable.

But that's not why I ride.

(Read more here.)