Ode to Bus #12

Oh bus number twelve, how I longed for thee.  When I first found out about you during the barbecue summer days of July, I thought I was dreaming.  You saved me from a long (ok, only five minute) walk up-hill in the 90 degree, 5000% humidity 8am weather.  You came on time at either 7:28 or 7:48.  On the dot.

Sadly, on that first day of the school year, seeing as how there’s a school right across the street from me, you disappeared.  I waited and waited longing for a quick glimpse, but nothing.  The arrival time screen said 5 minutes until you were to arrive.  Ten minutes later, it still said 5 minutes.  Another 10 minutes would pass and the screen would say 3 minutes.  So…I gave up on you and went back to my uphill walks in the morning.

Gradually as the sun abated and the walks became less arduous and sweat-inducing, I didn’t miss you as much.  It wasn’t a big deal walking up that hill anymore and the convenience of having a somewhat reliable bus schedule and more bus options made it worth it.  I didn’t miss you or need you anymore.

But then…this morning.  As I walked uphill, I peeked up at the bus arrival time screen, because who knows?  And there it was, bus #12…arrival time of 2 minutes.  Two minutes!  So, I waited.  And waited…and waited.  About 10 minutes later, my old love had arrived.  And dare I say, it felt nice getting on bus #12 again.  It reminded me of the good times we had before the school year started and you became so flaky.

Who knows?  Maybe we can catch more rides together again.  You are nice and quiet, don’t like crowds and are very direct.  What more can a guy ask for?  Maybe some breakfast too would be nice.