Just Shut Up and Ride

I am so tired.

The driving? I love it. Soaring through the wonders that make Portland such a beautiful place to live. But at what cost? I had no idea when I began this career that I would worry each day if I would return home whole, in this human body.

Now, it's a crap shoot. I ask a woman to kill the audio on her cell. She responds with a half-assed soliloquy on how I should just drive and keep my mouth shut. Her meager fare gives her the right to order me around. As if I'm a robot. Fuck her, I'm giving her a smooth and safe ride to her destination. Isn't that worthy of a slight modicum of respect? Why should I explain my reasons for asking her to respect my polite request?

Most people ride 20 minutes on my bus. In this time, I roll through the beauty that is our collective home. Its beauty alone demands a quiet, subdued ride. Instead, I'm offended by the inane and trailer-trash disgust of their collective (and loud) soliloquies of their squalid existence. No amount of money could adequately compensate for bearing witness to such vocal squalor.

Still, I find a way to let the insulting filth roll off my shoulders and into the trash heap that has become the overwhelming norm of today's society. They brag about their time in lockup, rather than slinking silently to a seat in shame for their misdeeds. These puke piles of society would rather share their exploits with a bus-full of those who give not one damn. It's disgusting, to say the least. We don't care what cell block is the worst of the lot, no matter how slight your crime. You are riding transit for free, only doing so because fare inspectors are already asleep or nearly so. Just shut the fuck up. Please.

I'm rolling my final trip of a 10-hour shift. Get on the bus and be kind to those who boarded before you. It's simple: turn the audio off your electronic devices which render you brain dead. Put on the headphones and drone everyone out. I want to JUST DRIVE. Your life story is of no consequence to my daily toil. I've likely heard it before, in many different keys in the sound of I don't give a fuck. According to my management, my main objective is to keep the line on time. Any deviation of this is to become my fault, no matter the amount of dumbfuckery you offer. So please, get on board, pay when you can or not; it makes no damn difference to me. As long as the wheels roll again within seconds of your hopping on board, your stories of losing a ticket or having no money are of no consequence to the all-ignorant mass of transit.

Oh how I wish I could just fly away...
and still get paid.

Our management has castrated any expectation of our respect. So just get on, shut up and have a seat. If you pay, say hello to your operator and behave yourself for 20 minutes or less, transit is your champion. If not, it's the operator who will likley pay the toll.

You're welcome.