Tabatha Deans

Bringing Integrity to the Written Word

I boarded the number 65 bus, my new Saturday route since RTD changed their schedule. I was headed home from work and it was just getting dark as I handed the driver my fare and received a transfer receipt from him. The driver is an older gentleman, with a big pale face, jowls and a bottom lip that protrudes slightly. I took a seat at the front of the bus so I could see the neighborhoods as we drove through them. Being in new territory, I was eager to ask the driver questions about where we were, but decided it was probably not a good idea to distract the driver while he’s driving.
We stopped at a light and the driver began chatting with me. Where you from? How long you been here? I explained I’d only been here for about one year, and was still trying to get the lay of the land. He gladly answered my questions, educated me on the various cross-streets and told me he was a retired cop who was just biding his time until he could officially retire and collect social security.
He answered a few more of my questions, then came back with a very smooth pickup line.
“You know what you need? You need to find an older boyfriend who has been here a while and can drive you around.” Haha, I didn’t see that one coming, but I dodged it quite artfully.
“Well, I’ve let several men lead me where I shouldn’t have gone,” I replied. He pondered that and smiled. “But I can always count on my bus driver.”
With that, he laughed and our relationship was cemented as respected driver and rider, and quasi-friends.
“My name is Gary,” he said as I rose to exit the bus. “I’ll see you next Saturday.”
“See you then Gary, thanks for the ride.”

February 19, 2012 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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