Happy Bus Drivers.

I travel to work via city transit. It's efficient enough for me, and it gives the side bonus that my wife has her sanity. You wouldn't believe what a difference that makes in my day.

Some bus drivers clearly have a spring through the middle of the cushion. They are surly to the point of being called the bus-nazi. Oscar the grouch would be proud. I almost want to pull the bell late for a stop just to tweak them.

Others couldn't care. They worry me. Instead of having road rage with 20 passengers, these drivers seem to have compounded muscle relaxant and anti-depressant medications. When I'm with them I'm sure I'll be on the bus that runs over a train. I have the fear that I'll be in an accident on my way to an important meeting. I'll be put out of 3 hours of my day between waiting for the police, filing reports, and then getting another bus. Oh yeah, and there's the possibility someone else could be hurt too.

But today I had Al, the happy bus driver. Al isn't annoyingly happy like he's supressing the dark voices calling him to go on a bus rampage through a mall. Al is genuinely pleased to be where he is in the world. He likes his job (well enough), and shows respect and welcome to all who ride his bus. I can't help but feel like scum for how dispondent I get with my job when I see him smiling while carting around people who missed their weekly shower.

So here is to all the Al's out there. You make our lives better, make us feel guilty, and confound us on your motivations. Don't ever stop. Except at all marked intersections and railway crossings. And in those cases do listen to the screaming people behind the yellow line on the floor.