I was not going to run. The great thing about depression is you conserve energy well. Then the light changed and caused the bus to stop, I crossed over, still, in T.O. there is a cat and mouse game with buses, often, not all the time, but often, if you run after them they will leave you. It was a long red light, what can I say?
I got on the bus. As per usual on my bus there was a driver hanging around the one driving the bus. He says to me, once he moves so I can put my money in, “You know if you wave the driver will wait for you.” I heard a few snickers in the peanut gallery.
Another thing about being depressed, you can keep a straight face pretty easily.
He is blocking my way to the seats. He is going on about what a great guy he is and how great his buddy is.
Now I could be wrong but I felt like he was involving me in a much longer argument, like one that started years ago. I’m imagining pre dawn era, the Brontosaurus bus to Big Rock, swings its big tail and splashes mud on all the caveman commuters running for the stop and the driver shrugs and points at his watch, “Sorry, schedule, ha ha ha.”
Another thing about being sad, while resigned to the inevitable proof that life sucks, there’s only one thing that can really switch it to anger and that is the old, “Hey, Cheer up! This is your lucky day! I am wonderful and to prove it I am going to make you agree!”
Finally I say to him, “If I had waved and jumped up and down and then ran you still might have driven this bus away as I reached the stop and maybe splashed me with mud and I would have been put in an even worse mood than I am in now!”
Not wanting to assault a T.T.C. employee, (it happens every 4 1/2 minutes, go figure) I manage to get by him and I hear him say something about the great women drivers on the T.T.C. (Wow, how radical, they let women drive buses now!) He is talking down the bus at me. I wonder if everyone on the bus thinks he’s my ex or something.
I said “shut up” not loudly, just in a sort of conversational tone. I doubt he could hear me. I got to the back and hung on to a pole, a bit shaken up. (I am afterall a rather smallish woman.) He had resumed hanging on to the ticket box talking to his buddy driving the bus. No doubt they had assured themselves that out of all the drivers they are the “good guys” and I was just another example of a “grumpy woman”, probably a lesbian, definitely menopausal.
p.s. There is nothing FUNNY about assault. Assault is wrong. Seriously.