Saturday, July 19, 2008

trying to sneak by

     San Francisco is freezing.  Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, since there are no actual icicles on any buildings, but I can, in all honesty tell you this: I am bundling up in a scarf, jacket, and gloves every day.  Truly.  I am grateful that I still have some winterish clothing with me, because, believe me, I am using all of it.  This is mid-July and I am wearing a thick scarf. That just doesn't seem right.  I had just assumed that any part of California would be warm, at any time.  Uh-uh, nope.  I guess I don't have to remind you what assuming does...

   Oh, so I have been getting around the city by bus.  Every beginning of the week I buy a bus pass for $15.  However, on thursday of this week, I somehow lost my pass.  I was very disappointed and I did not want to buy another week pass when it was already thursday and I had already paid for one.  So, my plan was to stealthily get onto the bus in a clump of other people and quickly flash my other pass that I had already bought (the one for next week, starting the 21st).  The only difference is that this week's pass is purple, whereas next week's pass is gold.  But, most of the drivers barely look up as we walk by, so I was gonna take my chances. Plus, I wasn't stealing since I had paid for the week pass fair and square.  Anyway, the plan was working beautifully.  That is, until I met up with the one bus driver who cares--and is mean, mean, mean.  

   I walk onto the bus right after Emily and Gabby flash their passes, and quickly flash my gold one.  The bus driver stops me mid-stride and is like, You! Get back here. Gulp. Ah, me? I ask, hoping against hope that he meant some other "you."  But he said, Yeah, you--is your pass a different color than theirs? Let me see yours closer. At this point, I can feel my pulse quicken and I know I am caught.  It's a terrible feeling. So, I show him the pass with the dates so horribly obvious in black and then I try to tell him that I did buy a pass for this week, but lost it.  To my utmost surprise, he neither believes me nor cares, and simply says, You need to pay. 
Uh, okay--how much is it? I ask. 1.50, he curtly replies.  I put my two dollars into the machine and simply wait for the change.  It doesn't appear.  I ask the bus driver where my fifty cents is and he smugly says, There is no change--and I could tell he was happy about it.  So, I ask him, Well, where does my fifty cents go? He simply says, To the bank.  Great. Just great.  

   One more day to go while trying to sneak on the bus without the right pass.  I really hate it.  I know I could just pay--but I never have cash and I don't like borrowing money from my roommates.  Honestly, I would be a terrible criminal cause all the cloak and dagger stuff just makes me nervous.  I can't wait till Monday, when I will be a straight shooter again...


peaj said...

Poor thing. I could send you a roll of quarters, if you'd like.

Or nickels. That would be fun - making the bus stand still while you feed thirty nickels into the machine.

But please, when we read about you in the papers, we don't want it to be in the police blotter section.

joshusa! said...

I am mad i am spitting nickels.
Jess, this was a PERFECT opportunity to use my Mark Twain quote. and you didn' mad!

kathieK said...

As a former DART bus patron, I can attest to the fact that you must have EXACT change for the bus. I have had to bite the bullet and pay the extra whatever when I didn't have exact change and it is a pain, it's like the tax you have to pay for not being prepared, and they (the bus drivers) do not care one bit!

jason said...

people in any role who let their power (however small) go to their heads REALLY annoy me. yet, at the same time, I find them very entertaining. So it's confusing.