This morning I saw someone running for the bus. I was stopped at a red light at an intersection. The bus was on the opposite side of the intersection, stopped at a shelter and letting some people get on. I’d been annoyed for several minutes because I’d wanted to get around the bus but every time I thought I had a chance to pass another car went by in the next lane or I was hemmed in at an intersection. As someone who used to ride the bus regularly and still rides buses when I can I don’t complain about sharing the road with buses until I get stuck behind one and then I complain a lot. And loudly. Fortunately no one can hear me because I’m in the car by myself. At least when I was at the red light there was nowhere I could go and I knew the bus would go straight while I had a turn at the next block and would finally have the road to myself.
That’s when I saw a guy running across a grassy area toward the bus. He was running as fast as he could while carrying a large backpack, and he had on a brown jacket, black slacks, nice shoes, and cap. He looked like someone who might work in the IT department of some company; maybe that backpack held his laptop and other equipment. It was large enough that it looked heavy. At that moment I knew that, even if the light turned green, I wouldn’t be going anywhere. At that moment I knew I’d be happy to be stuck behind the bus for another minute or two. Well, maybe “happy” isn’t the right word, but I’d be fine with it because, as a bus rider, I’d been that guy. I’d never carried a heavy backpack, though I do have a satchel with journals, books, sometimes a tablet. And I’d never been as nicely dressed as he was—a long time ago I worked in a job where I could only wear jeans on Fridays and every morning when I slip into denim, whether I’m conscious of it or not, I’m glad. The main thing is I’ve been that guy who sees the bus stopped and has had to run for it, hoping the driver sees me and waits for me to get there.
There have been times when I’ve been too late. There have been times when I’ve gotten to the bus stop just in time for the bus to pull away, and times when it didn’t matter how loudly I yelled. The driver didn’t see me, didn’t hear me, or just didn’t care.
And once when that happened a guy in a small car who’d been behind the bus stopped, rolled down his window, and said to me, “Get in, we’ll catch up with that bus.”
His name was Gary, he’d seen me running, and he stopped to pick me up. He got into the next lane and passed the bus so quickly I barely had a chance to even thank him before he dropped me at the next stop. He was so efficient I wondered if he did that sort of thing all the time.
The guy I saw running for the bus made it and even though I was happy for him a part of me still wishes I’d had a chance to stop and give him a lift. I would have been happy to help him. Well, I wouldn’t have complained anyway.
I wish there were more people like you and Gary in the world, Chris.
Ann Koplow recently posted…Day 4333: Where to go next
Recent events have made me even more conscious of helping others and I like to think I’m not alone in that. Of course you’re always helping others and I’m glad you’re helping make the world a better place too.