Holiday Shorts

Short-lived snowfall, before the ice storm arrived.

I received an early Christmas gift today. A lady who works in the office where we're allowed rest room privileges had her sons with her, and she called them out when I arrived. "Boys, I want you to meet my favorite bus driver!"

Wow. I've waited years to hear this. I've wondered if anyone felt that way. Well thanks, Lady Claudine. You made my day!

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The snow is pretty cool. The ice that follows it isn't.

My normal weekday route is one of those "Jerry Springer Runs." Drama unfolds almost daily between the unwashed who live among us. By the end of a week, my customer service well runs beyond dry. Especially after driving 10 hours through a typical Portland ice storm.

"You're late," a drunk told me as I opened the doors.

He was right. By then I was on my last run. I'd been held hostage several minutes by a pokey freight train, caught every red light, played dodge-the-dumbass at a mall parking lot more than once, and dropped or raised my chains so many times I wasn't sure where they were. I had nothing left in the tank. I thought hard for a few seconds for a witty or artfully-crafted comeback.

"Duh," I finally said.

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I love teasing kids. This time of year, it's especially fun. One lad of about seven boarded my bus and was excitedly talking about Santa.

"Do you believe in Santa?" he asked.

"Why, sure I do!" I said. "He brings me something every year!"

"Wow," he said, wonder lighting up his cute little face. "See Dad? I told you he was real!"

I glanced at Dad in my mirror. He was not amused. I grimaced and told my driver window, "Ruh roh, Daddy's pissed." Since I was on a roll, however...

Santa's Headquarters on the left.

"Actually," I told the boy, "Santa and his reindeer were on my bus just a while ago. His sleigh was in for repairs and he had to go to Macy's so he rode my bus."

This time, the lad wasn't so sure. "Nuh uh. Santa doesn't ride the bus."

"Actually," I said, painting myself an incredulous look, "he drives a bus too. When he's not delivering toys, that is."

"No way!"

"Yep," I said. "Seriously, if you go into Macy's and ask Santa if he's ever driven a bus, I'll bet he'll wink and tell you he certainly has."

They got off downtown just across from Macy's. Dad scowled at me as he departed, but the holiday spirit returned and he managed a half-smile as he walked by and said, "Gee thanks, buddy."

(So, Santa Mark Lawson, but please tell me if some lil' blond boy asked for your résumé. Oh, and hopefully the sleigh repairs are being covered by the transit agency. Just make sure you submit your expense report before the end of the month.)