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Bus riders know where bureaucrats should get off
Tom Oleson
THE other day I got on the bus, as I often do, and stood behind the driver's seat fumbling through my pockets for bus fare, as I do almost as often.
This took what might seem to most people like an inordinately long time, but winter weather like we've been having requires a lot of clothes and that means a lot of pockets to go through and one's dexterity diminishes with age. In any case, as I was looking for the required exact change for the fare something strange seemed to be going on. As unlikely as it might be, the bus driver, an attractive young woman, appeared to be murmuring sweet nothings to me personally, because she certainly wasn't talking to anyone else on the bus.
This rarely happens, so I leaned in closer and distinctly heard her say "Portage Avenue" or something like that and it became disappointingly clear what was going on: She was, as she is required to do, calling out the names of the bus stops on her route. She was doing her duty, even though no one could hear her do it and even though doing...