The Wheels Go Round (Avon Calling)
When I was first on the job I worked some pretty rough neighborhoods. I would go up and down through the streets that were more like alleys picking up some pretty dangerous dudes. In one of these neighborhoods a little old lady would ride my bus almost every night delivering her Avon orders. Mrs. Williams would get on my bus carrying her shopping bag, drop her fare in the box and say “Good evening.” For the rest of the ride she sat across from me and would chat aimlessly until she came to her stop which was very close to the end of the line.
One evening there was a particularly rowdy gang of boys in the back of the bus. They were making remarks about the hunky driver which I was pretty much just ignoring until a couple of them started ominously up towards the front of the bus still jeering about what they would do to the white driver in the hood. I was reaching for my handset when all of a sudden Mrs. Williams pulled one of the biggest butcher knives I had ever seen from inside her shopping bag and pointed it at these young hooligans. I couldn’t believe my eyes or my ears. This normally refined black lady was telling these young punks off in no uncertain terms. She told them to get back to their seats and leave this white driver alone because he looked out for her every night as she made her deliveries. To my utter amazement, they did as they were told and the rest of the trip was uneventful. They all paid their fares and got off in silence at their stops.
As the months went by I became known as the crazy white mother hunky but none of the young hooligans ever tried to approach me again. I was no martyr and I got off that run as soon as I had enough seniority to get a better run.
© 2011 Laura L Scotty
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