Earlier in the week, we rode past our usual stop to head up to Wal-Mart, because that is what people in the midwest do for fun. This is not the strange part. On our way home a few hours later, the bus stops at a routine place on the route, assumably to pick up the two men standing there.
The more wiry of the pair begins chatting with the bus driver. He doesn't get on the bus, just stands there with one foot on the bottom step, holding a bus schedule and, we assume, plotting out a trip somewhere in town. The conversation lasts for several minutes, and at the end, he does not get on the bus at all. The second man, scruffy, with eyes that are just a little too close together, makes to get on.
"No, Bart," the bus driver says. (There is some debate between D and myself about whether his name is Bart or Mark.) The driver refuses to let the second man board, and he asks why. "Because I said so," the driver says firmly, closing the doors in his face. "Bart doesn't ride!" he shouts triumphantly, and then repeats it to himself like it's his new mantra. "Bart doesn't ride."
This perplexed us well after the fact. Whatever had Bart or Mark done to warrant being shunned from public transportation? People masturbate on the backseat, eat pasta straight out of the can with their fingers, and pass around Jehovah's Witness pamphlets on the bus and don't get banned. Did he shank somebody? Defecate on the seat? Masturbate on a Jehovah's Witness while eating pasta straight out of the can? Inquiring minds want to know - probably against their better judgment.
NUMBER OF LESBIANS WHO RIDE THE BUS BESIDES US: 2.
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