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| Sauvie Island Bridge, a few years ago. |
It was, in a 2017 fashion sense, a funky throwback to the 70s. Floppish, felt and velvety red. Complete with a sassy sash above the brim and feathers sticking every which way. Perhaps she was imitating a male peacock.
No reply, nary a whisper. The stunning young brunette with a pig's butt expression rolled her eyes up and over mine after she tapped her card on the reader. Without a peep, she sashayed down the aisle.
"Like my ass?" her stroll seemed to suggest, "because that's all you get from me." (No Miss Miscreant, I've seen better butts on people who actually lived when your hat was mod.)
"Hmm," I thought to myself but unknowingly aloud, "someone left their manners back in 2004."
She turned around and scowled. Oops, she heard me even through those headphones. I just shrugged. If you're so self-involved you can't greet the person finessing the wheel, this driver will often give your "diss" a shout out. Bad manners grate on my nerves. Sorry, but I calls 'em as they present themselves. Miss Entitlement Elitist '17, once you're past the yellow line just hang on because I'm rolling again and my eyes are focused elsewhere. I'm not impressed.
If she called in a complaint, I'll ignore the summons to see the manager because I detest this modern day "please the passenger at all costs" baloney. If a passenger is rude to me and I make a snide remark, I consider it a wash. Touché, just go away. Preferably exiting the rear door, thank you. That way I don't have to smell your attitude once again. I'd rather take in Homeless Harry's street cologne... at least he was polite to me.
At first, I thought it was just me. But no. Evidently, a few fellow operators have noticed the same trend by ignoring ignoramuses. An alarming majority of people using the new "tap card" fare system employ this silent abuse. The trend has increased as the new system gains popularity. It's as if their self-payment entitles them to silently roll to their bacteria-ridden seat, as if I'm simply a uniformed limousine driver. Bypass the fare box and the operator, as if it's uncool to throw a kind word our way.
NEWSFLASH, NUMBSKULLS: We're professional drivers in your present. Captains of the Ship, even if management doesn't agree that we're anything but pawns for them to freely sacrifice.
"Just drive, asshole," their attitude suggests. I've heard this said countless times before. Well, okay then. Don't slip on Ripple Riley's spilt wine on your way backward. Once everyone else exits the bus, then I'll be free to drive just you.
Not all the new fare folks act this way. My run today was frequented by professional tappers who were raised in roughly the same era I was. I greet them as they enter, as always accompanied by my patented smile, and they return the favor. As they leave, I'm often treated to their kind thanks and kudos for a smooth ride. If I offer a few (hopefully) entertaining announcements along their journey, they add a funny parting remark in return. My regulars understand my penchant for passenger interaction. Sometimes, my announcements seem to fall on deaf ears. I'm here all week, I say to myself. Then a passenger will surprise me with a witty reply on their way out. It makes my day to feel appreciation for going over and above what they expect from their transit operator.
I shouldn't expect such a substantial return on my occupational investment. However, I put my heart and soul into everything I do, especially in providing a safe and pleasant ride. Miss Entitlement, I hope you enjoyed my smooth roll. In spite of yourself.
Love this. You did say MOST are nice.
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