Do... the... Right... Thing

Deke's Note: I hate to pick on my fellow operators. We're constantly harangued by management, the public and the media whenever something goes terribly wrong. Every day, we're out there giving millions of safe rides, providing a valuable public service. However, we sometimes forget there is no "I" in "team." I've had my fill of those who fail to do as trained, making life even tougher for those who wear the same shoes. It's time for me to vent... but this is meant to teach rather than demean.

It doesn't matter how long you've been in the seat. I don't care if you're a newbie or have been here dozens of years. When you fail to do the right thing, others suffer. Often, we're tempted to be outright lazy and allow bad habits to rule our roll. This is simple complacency. We can allow bad habits to become constant. We all have been guilty of this at some, or many times during our careers. Perhaps we don't realize the effects these failures of duty have on those behind, alongside or ahead of us. Usually, we do, and the rigors of the road can render these actions unimportant in lieu of what we have just gone through. It's easy to say "I just don't give a fuck. I only want this day to end, and to hell with anyone else."

Well folks, I've had just about enough of whiny miscreants. To those of us who toil just as hard, I say I work even harder, to do the right thing.

After a few weeks into a signup, I know my route like my right foot feels the brake pedal. Where I'm bound to be early, late or right on time. We're all guilty of allowing a mental misstep like coming up to a time point too early, but if you truly care about your craft, it's easy to take steps along the route to ensure this doesn't happen.

On my current route, during rush hour we're spaced about 5-10 minutes apart. Run too early and you're kissing your leader's bumper. That's really hard on them, but if you work at it, you can help them along by running on time. Hand signals out your window as they pull from a stop just ahead of you can tell them to "skip stops" and boost them back onto schedule. Your bus may be nearly-empty while theirs is standing room only. This not only lessens the load on Dispatch, it keeps things as they should be: between us.

Perhaps it's your bus that's bursting at the seams, or as I tell my pax, "the Sardine Can Express," which amuses them as they stand shoulder-to-shoulder while you try your best to smooth curves and stops to not force them into any unwanted close encounter. Full buses seem to be full of jovial banter about how busy the ride is compared to earlier or yesterday. I tend to share their discomfort with a bit of banter on the microphone.

"Thanks for working together folks," I might say, "this is your friendly Sardine Can Express, brought to you by my leader who is apparently mostly empty and ahead of schedule."

My microphone is constantly accessible when I'm the "full bus." It gives us a chance to communicate and commiserate, making the uncomfortable crowded roll just a bit more palatable. Just the other day as traffic backed up, I softly sang "Traffic Jam" by James Taylor into the microphone, to the delightful glee of my listeners.

"Damn this traffic jam," I cooed into the keyed onboard mic, "how I hate to be late. It hurts my motor to go so slow, time I get home my supper be cold, DAMN this traffic jam... Well I left my job about five o'clock, about 15 minutes to go three blocks, just in time to stand in line, with the freeway looking like a parking lot, I say DAMN this traffic jam..."

Despite my warbling off-key voice, the response was electric. "What's that? Who sang that?" they asked. I explained my love for James Taylor, and refused to interrupt their excited after-work chatter with my uninvited solo.

Anyway, it's vital we operators recognize who's having the worst of the day's rush hour roll. When I'm working, I count on my leader and follower to "get it" and act accordingly.

One day last week, I passed my leader, who happened to be on their last run. I was treated to their "stink eye." My goal was to take the pressure off of the poor operator by passing by and picking up the next crowd of waiting passengers, allowing my leader to pass me by and skip a stop or two. This maneuver gives them a chance to get ahead of me if the stop I service is not requested by one of their own passengers. If not, the job requires them to dutifully fall in behind and let passengers off.

This time, the operator must have been truly inexperienced. They pulled around me, blocking my exit as I serviced the stop past the one I had rolled by. Their misplaced anger at me rolled through their open doors, as a few of their passengers exited and boarded my bus.

"I had to get out of there," one lady told me. "That bus was too crowded and the driver was pissed because you passed us by. So was I! Why did you do that?"

Since the lady stood nearby, I gave her the explanation. "It's called 'skip-stopping,' " I told her. "When the bus ahead of us is full, we pass them by and pick up the passengers waiting for their bus, allowing them to not have to board any more people than they have already."

"Oh!" she said, pausing to take it in. "That makes sense. Why didn't he know that? He was so angry I heard him cuss you out when you went by."

"Perhaps he's new and doesn't know the ropes," I said as gently as possible. Hiding my anger at a newbie's rude maneuver, I still felt solidarity and wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. This passenger seemed to "get it." Unfortunately, my clueless leader likely steamed in his pissy brew all the way back to the garage as I dropped off countless of his would-be passengers he would have had to transport had I not passed him by.

My constant banter with passengers not only educates, but soothes them. Many, having ridden transit most of their lives, don't need the explanation as they've lived it for years. They know more than the rookie drivers who get pissed at me when I exhibit what years of experience require me to. They know that when two buses on the same line roll into the same stop simultaneously, intending passengers should board the second one. It takes a while before newbies settle into the realities of what we do.

Back to those who know what to do, but choose to do what they want.

We're trained from the beginning never to roll into our downtown transit mall early. Some schedules allow for this, adding time upon arriving there. This gives a late bus the chance to make up late time. If you're on time when you get to the mall, chances are great that once you arrive at the downtown time point, you'll be early. Some lines find themselves up to three minutes early. If this happens, our Standard Operating Procedures dictate that a bus fall into the LAST position at a downtown stop to burn, or "dwell for time." This allows on-time buses which service the same stop the opportunity to take the first position and leave when the traffic signal turns green. Doing so allows us to roll harmonically. While one bus line might arrive just on time or a bit late, a bus which sits back allows another that services that stop to roll in and perhaps make up the time they arrived late. This type of cooperation is timeless, something experienced operators have done for a century in honor of our solidarity and willingness to work together.

If a bus arrives early at a downtown time point and fails to take the last position to dwell, hogging the first position for two or three light cycles, the unfortunate driver who pulls in behind them is treated to an agonizingly-unnecessary wait.

In my case, it further elevates my frustration. Since I work very hard not to be early when I arrive downtown to find another operator who is too early in the first position, it makes me extremely late leaving the transit mall. Such a selfish action truly pisses me off, especially because I work very hard not to "be that guy." It affects my On-Time Performance, which has overtaken Safety in management's unrealistic transit eyes.

"I'm only burning 20-30 seconds," one operator told me when I secured my bus in the second position after he sat through an entire green light. Having this happen every night, I left my bus to question his actions. I was worried something was awry on his bus, and would have helped had that been the case. It was not.

"You've been here ever since I left 5/Pine!" I declared. "You're not even supposed to arrive here until two minutes after I leave! Do the right thing, and burn time at the Burnside Bridge stop, and this wouldn't happen. Please! Burn your time, if you must, in the last position. You're making me two-to-three minutes late every night!"

The operator waved me off with a dismissive gesture. It's bad enough when you ask a passenger to follow transit code and they blow you off. But when a fellow operator, who has been driving long enough to know the rules does this, it is a terrible bummer.

So, if you're a rookie on a mini-run or as an extra board operator, remember your brothers and sisters have done this route day-in and out for possibly years. You're still learning. Take a lesson and think about what you're doing. If you're doing a run you have been rolling all the sign-up, you know better than to run early and burn time at the expense of those behind you. Take a moment. Think about how your actions are affecting others. If you're not the most important person in the world, maybe you'll realize there are real-time repercussions to others for your misdeeds. We want to roll on time too. Perhaps our bladders are bursting past managerial expectations, and your selfish actions are pushing us beyond our body's limits. Ever sat in a urine-stench operator seat? Your inexperience might have caused it.

We all learn as we go, or we don't learn at all. Some are only concerned with their own schedule, others "just deal with it." As the years roll by, a "good" operator thinks not only of themselves, but for those with whom they share the job. Any time we can work together is time Dispatch could spend dealing with more vital issues than our petty inabilities to remember what we're trained to do.

If you're new to the job or a route, take a moment to listen to what other operators are trying to teach you. Don't wave us off with the dismissive and flippant gesture of unearned arrogance. In no circumstance, flip us off or curse us when your actions are blocking us from rolling smooth. If you need to be told, listen for crying out loud. Do not ever take actions that would certainly land you in trouble if a supervisor saw it.

Do the right thing. It's what we're taught in training, and takes on an even more vital importance when you're rolling in unison with others who have probably done this job years more than you. It's called "teamwork."

Please do NOT call in and ask to be put into "Drop Off Only" mode if you're on your last run of the shift. Concurrently, learn by watching what it means to "skip stop" on a busy route. It will likely help rather than hinder you. We've all done this, and it's time for you to breathe and watch a pro roll.

Please do NOT dwell for early time in the first position of ANY shared stop. You're early? Good for you. The bus behind you is likely right on time, and your laziness is making them late. Get a grip, and watch how a professional rolls. This is a good time to learn, rather than sit there and look like a rookie.

If you're new to the extra board, which I know many of you are, way too early than you should be, realize there are unwritten rules of the road you may not be wise to yet. Watch and learn. We all had veterans teach us, let us teach you. Be respectful, courteous and patient. That's the ONLY way you'll excel at this job. It's rough, yeah. But if you take the time and think about what happens, you'll get it like we did. Soon, you'll be teaching those who follow you to learn the rules you have learned by sweat, fear, and finally... acceptance of the transit reality we have all come to know.

One other sound bit of advice: when you actually realize another has taught you a valuable lesson, acknowledge and thank them for it. Remember it. Exercise these lessons with every roll. If we fail to work together out there, it becomes infinitely more difficult and frustrating than it needs to be. You will learn the ways we work by, or you'll die by them. Don't piss us off... you're following in our footsteps. Accept, acknowledge, and learn good habits. That's what keeps us rolling smoothly as a team.

As winter blows into the Great Northwest, it's even more important you stop and think about what your brothers and sisters are telling you. Every moment is a vital learning step in your transit education. Study every one of them.

Word, dude. Deke loves you. Share it. Accept it. Deal with it. Don't ever forget it. Most of all, don't take your veterans for granted... you can always learn from us. There might also be moments when we learn from you.