The Barricades Are Coming, The Barricades Are Coming!!

Ah, yes... Fall is here...  The leaves are falling, we're all trying to squeeze into the jeans we abandoned last Spring, and Downtown Mobile is awash in Penske Truck Goldenrod and Port-a-Potty Teal.  The magic that  is...  Bayfest.

Funny, but I didn't hear anything about Bayfest on my city bus ride.  Big Mama was busy giving career advice to a young man, weary of bussing tables all day, and pointing out that the proliferation of policemen giving speeding tickets will escalate through the holiday season, as this is the preferred way our boys in blue obtain bonuses.  None of the other Regulars had anything to say about the music festival, and I had almost forgotten about it until I made my way from Government Plaza to Bienville Square to my Baldwin County bus.  Although the barricades and bustle had only a minor impact on my route, The Professionals were a bit antsy.

I chose a seat at the front of the bus, even though I really prefer the back.  There seems to be a sub-grouping of Professionals--  the Serious Professionals who busy themselves reading inspirational books, or biographies of couragous Republicans, or doing whatever people do on their Tablets.  And there are the Witty Professionals--  always smiling and trying their best to contribute the appropriate pun in any conversation.   Bow-ties.    I wouldn't say it's set in stone, but by and large the Serious Professionals sit at the front of the bus, the Witty Professionals occupy the back, and making up the middle of the bus are the In-Betweeners.  Not to be limited to one group or another, they are at times glib and at other times stoic.  Wild cards.

 The last time I sat at the back of the bus, the topic being discussed was the expiration dates of the vouchers we are all mailed, enabling us to get a free emergency ride back to Baldwin County from downtown Mobile in case we miss our bus due to circumstances beyond our control.  One of the Witty Professionals suggested those with vouchers about to expire should all meet at Wintzel's after work some Friday night, enjoy a few drinks, then all call for the emergency ride at the same time!  His face froze in a silly, expectant smile, while the rest of the Witties reacted with rolling eyes, groans, and muffled laughter.  From the front of the bus, a deadpan: "I don't think that's what the vouchers are supposed to be used for."  Thank you, Serious, for clearing that up...

But, like I said, I chose a seat at the front of the bus this time because I seem to suffer less motion sickness the closer I am to the windshield.  There was panic in the voices of The Professionals boarding in front of me.  "You think it's bad now, but wait until tomorrow--  Bayfest Friday!" and "They close these streets earlier and earlier every year..."  Finally the tension grew to great, and one Professional announced in desperation, "I think I'm just going to drive my own car tomorrow.  Can we be sure the bus will make it out to the Interstate with all of...  THIS going on?"  The bus driver, sitting diagonally across from me, gave me a "Bless Their Hearts" smile with a shake of his head.  I still don't know his name, but this driver is a bit older than Morning Driver Lamar.  He's a good natured fellow, and he started this job the week before I started taking the bus, so we share a sort of kinship.

Once we got going, the quiet older lady across from me confided that she always takes Bayfest Friday off.  However, this year she feels compelled to come in because next week she has jury duty.  Weird.  So do I!  "Bay Minette?" I ask--  "Yes," she replies.  We marvel at the coincidence of it all.  She talks very softly and very sloooowwwwlllly, so you should read her quotes at about a third the speed you read everything else.

"I really don't like jury duty because I just don't feel right about missing so much work, it's such an inconvenience to the others in the office," she says.

"Oh, I don't know," I reply, "Other people in the office get called to jury duty now and then.  We pick up their slack when they are out, they pick up our slack next week."

In the softest, slowest, Georgia Engel voice she explains, "Yes.  But those who pick up MY slack never do it as well as I do when I pick up theirs."  Oh my.

"I tried to get my husband to go in my place because he's retired," she continues, "but I guess no one would look at him and think he looked like his name was Susan"  Proud of herself, she smiled and closed the conversation.

To my astonishment, from the cusp of the In-Betweeners comes, "Ha!  A Boy Named Sue!"

And with that, he earned a seat in the back of the bus.

Little Ronnie and Big Shirley, Sittin In a Tree...

It's been awhile that I've been doing this now, and I really don't like the idea of naming anyone by their Christian name for obvious reasons, but I think a name must be assigned to the Fearless Afternoon Bus Leader.  I have chosen Big Mama--  because she's big, and she's much like a mama to all of us on Bus 407.

So, having cleared that up, it's no stretch to say that Big Mama made up for the doldrums she left us in by not riding the bus on Friday with her entertaining banter Monday afternoon!  I've spent the last 2 days trying to figure out how to properly package the dialog from the bus Monday, and there's just no way to do it justice.  You had to be there.  But, since you weren't and I was, I'll break it down like this:

Apparently the small framed, older black man that rides near the front of the bus is named Little Ronnie.  Oops, I said I wasn't naming names.  Oh well.  And, as it turns out, he is in a relationship, possibly marriage, with a presumably large woman named Big Shirley.  When I entered the bus I walked in with the action already in progress, so I have no idea what sparked the debate, but Big Mama was accusing Little Ronnie of not working anymore because he told his boss off.  According to Little Ronnie that was not the situation at all, "I git my money on the first and the third and that's the way I like it!" 
Big Mama, "You git your money on the first and third??  Big SHIRLEY gits yo money on the first and third!"
A helpless dirty look from Little Ronnie, tempered with a good natured smile.
And she continued, "But choo better stick WIT Big Shirley-- you don want her mad--  she can TAKE you!"
Howls throughout the bus, and to my great surprise, many looks my way to see what I think of the entertainment...  I think my uncontrollable laughter put them at ease.
"In fact, I could take you--  I slap you up so hard you'll plump up to 50 pounds!!"
I was most impressed by this barb, and made a mental note to use it if ever in a verbal match with someone smaller than me...
And then, the only shot Little Ronnie could think to volley back: "She about yo size!"
A good comeback, I'll admit, but only if used once.
"MY size-- Little Ronnie you WRONG fo dat!  She so big you can't even take her to Golden Corral, they got her picture up on the CASH register!!"
Quiet youngster in the Popeye's uniform next to me shakes his head, looks up at me with, "She doin him dirty..."
The shots continued from Big Mama, with only the response, "She about yo size" coming from Little Ronnie, again and again, until finally he had had enough...
"STOP THE BUS!  I'll WALK the rest of the way!!"

The last round of laughter came when we saw Litle Ronnie's good nature tested one last time as he tripped on his way off the bus...

I was still laughing at the simple, uncomplicated joy we all shared, even Little Ronnie, by the time I made it to the BRATS bus at Bienville Square.  Make no mistake, even with his clumsy departure, Little Ronnie felt just fine being the butt of the jokes--  the folks on that bus are just that familiar.  And I love it.

I rode through downtown Mobile, onto the interstate and across the Bay hearing, "...so different than working in the private sector..." and "...the tax structure overseas provides for..." and "...no, we play at Lakewood this week..."

I feel like I am the only one to fully appreciate the toothpaste and orange juice sensation here.  I find it absolutley delicious!

The Empty Chair

Last week I took one day off, drove my car another day, and got a ride home from The Boyfriend on ANOTHER day, so by Friday I was feeling very lost not having spent an afternoon since Monday being entertained by my afternoon route Leader--  the fabulous woman who speaks her mind and tells it like it is--  loudly.  From what I've read of Coco Chanel, she and The Leader would be best friends.  Or would rip each other apart for sport.  Or both.

I made it through the workday, even got to the bus stop earlier than usual, with an unmistakeable spring in my step.  I inhaled deeply, then bounded the stairs onto the bus, looked anound and...  she was not there. 

There were the fast food workers, the Remington College students, the people I never saw and would likely never see again, the highly accessorized girl getting a ride to the mall, the mom with her little boy...  and they were completely leaderless.  I exhaled, deflated.  I felt cheated in a way.

A million thoughts ran through my mind--  was she sick, was she ok, would she be back on Monday...  Then, I remembered.  I overheard her complaining one Friday before that it was too hard to get to the bank on Fridays to cash her check, so she was just gonna get a ride from a friend from now on.

It was a long ride, indeed.  I've gotten so interested in her stories.  Because she always wears scrubs, and the bus route originates from Providence Hospital, I asked once if she worked there.  "No," she said, "I work for a private family."  When she told me her employer's neighborhood I was beyond impressed.  I had only visited that neighborhood a handful of times to attend parties given by my classmates at St. Paul's way back in high school.  She's been with the same family for over 20 years.  "I started out raisin' the kids and now I'm takin' care of they daddy!"  She had a gleam in her eye when she told me that, and it seemed she sat up a bit straighter in her chair, as well.  Further down the road on that same ride the conversation turned to haunted mansions in midtown and downtown Mobile, and as she pointed to homes lining Governement St., she dropped so many names that it was clear she knew some of the most important families in town. 

I am so impressed.  Not with the names, or the family she works for, but that she has stayed with the same job in the same place for all this time.  And, she clearly enjoys what she does!  How many people do I know that can say that?  

Just when I started waxing sentimental she caught a glimpse of some woman walking down the sidewalk whose hair was a "HOT mess!" and whose "Hootchie coochie clothes shoulda STAYED at da house!..."

As I walk to the bus stop this afternoon one thought keeps running through my mind...  Thank God it's NOT Friday...