Wednesday, March 21, 2007

As the USS Donald Cook puts out to sea

a curious scene is played out on the Silver Line's SL#2 this evening. The bus picks us up in front of Drydock # 27 and speeds down Black Falcon Avenue, makes the dog-leg to Northern Ave and then blithely roars past a good nascent twenty passengers milling around the bus-stop.
Not so much as a by-your-leave even.
But then it gets even stranger, the driver pulls up to the very next stop and lets on a single solitary well insulated passenger, just as the doors whooshed open the cheery electronic voice intoned "Please report any unattended packages or suspicious behavior to the bus-driver".
Which put me in a quandary, how can I report the bus-driver's suspicious behavior to...the bus-driver? I mean whassup with dissin' the twenty on the sidewalk for the lone hammerhead one stop up?
I wanted to stand up, wave my battered paperback copy of "Lolita" overhead and announce " an aesthete...I have taste decorum even, and this bus is operated by a driver of pronounced and morbid caprice!! I demand a detailed explanation!! An alibi, a little sonnet perhaps...but please for the love of the late muses, why didja blast past those twenty back there??"

Alas I did nothing, it was late I was tired if Al Queda or the Winter Hill Gang were in on it, I couldn't figure out their plot.