- Books, Literature, and Writing»
- Commercial & Creative Writing
The Wheels Go Round (Sit On It)
This one is an event that although unlawful was a product of the times and self survival. If you want to keep your job today, I don't advise emulating it.
When I started with the Authority it was a time of civil unrest. Even though we were not in the South by any means there were still some areas of the city that were not safe for bus drivers of the wrong color. I guess you might say that I led a pretty charmed life. Even though we were not supposed to carry on the job it was a pretty rough time and there were quite a few of us who worked late all night shifts in the roughest neighborhoods of the city. After the Avon lady incident I had started to carry a pistol and it rode with me under my seat.
One evening a young man got on my bus and rode into town with me. Everyone had gotten off at the first bus stop in town and the boy came up next to me and patted his pocket as he asked, “What would you do if I pulled this out and wanted your money?” Without thinking I pulled my gun from under my seat and pointed it right between his eyes. “I’d say, pull that gun out with your pinky and your thumb and put it into my fare box pointing inward.” (The fare boxes in those days were open at the top and not just bill and coin slots) The boy turned white as a ghost and did as he was told. I opened the door to the bus and told him to get sprinting. He took off like a shot heading up the street towards where I knew I would be passing in just a few minutes when I made my city loop.
Now I started to sweat because he could be going for help from a few of his brothers. I closed the door, put my gun back under my seat and proceeded cautiously around the block. As I turned the corner there on the street were two police officers with the boy I had just thrown off my bus. They signaled me to stop. I did and greeted them saying “Boy am I glad to see you, that boy just got off my bus after I took his gun off him.” One of the Officers told me that the boy had a different story and that they would have to search my bus. With a sinking pit in my stomach, I got up and let them search. They looked around but neither one of them reached under the seat. They took the young man’s gun and got off my bus taking him into custody for carrying a weapon. They told me to go on my way.
I was closing the door when the second policeman turned to me and said in a low tone “You can take that gun out from under your seat now but don’t use it again.” With that he left. To my relief the story never got back to my dispatcher or if it did nothing was said. I took his advice but again the word got around that the crazy white mother hunky was still driving the streets.
© 2011 Laura L Scotty