My son changed seats mid travel on the bus ride home yesterday. *gasp* It's against the rules to stand up while the bus is moving. *gasp*gasp* Bus driver John was extremely unhappy about it and pulled over to the side of the road, before the designated bus stop, and kicked my boy off the bus . . .
unbeknownst to Bus driver John, he had stopped smack dab in front of our house.
There weren't as many rules back in my day. We did cartwheels down the isles, climbed over the backs of seats and hung out the windows. One especially lively morning commute my brother singed my eyebrows with a lighter. The smell of burnt hair lingered well through 1st period English, the time it took for my curled up eyebrows to sluff off.
I'd love to hear your colorful bus memories . . . just be sure to stay seated while you're commenting please, and no opening the windows.
goodbye 80's
13 comments:
Ah, the bus. I rode the bus all the way through my senior year. I owe my marriage to the school bus. If it had not been for Jr. High school bus, I wouldn't be married to Scott today. I owe a lot to that dreadful vehicle.
And I love love love your bathroom makeover! Will you come do mine next?
The bathroom really looks great. I'm so glad for you that you're finished with it.
The bus....was painfull. One day while my friends and I got on the bus the driver noticed we were carrying a candy bar. He said "you better be able to show me that when you get off"...you know, the 'no eating on the bus' rule.
Well, we thought we were very clever and funny when we got off the bus and each opened our mouths wide to 'show him' the candy bar. *gasp*
He didn't see the humor, we weren't on the bus the next day.
Actually, I have a bunch of bus memories:
Corey Owens was a couple of years older than me, lived down the street. He was in the seat behind me on the way home one day and I put my arm up on the back of the seat. He knocked it off. I put it back up. He knocked it off. I put it back up....
He punched me in the face.
I cried all the way home. When I got home I called his house and he answered and I told him, amid tears, "That really hurt!"
Then I hung up.
whoops, that last post was mine. Don't know why I finished it.
I have one more...
I got a really bad mid-term report card in jr. high (middle school as we called it). I was in a very sad mood because my mom was going to KILL me. Remember, this is before computers so parents had NO IDEA what kids' grades looked like but twice during the term: Mid Term and Final Grade.
I think it was a D- in something. Probably GYM. Anyway, the bus driver Tim asked me what was wrong. I told him I was getting bad grades. When he stopped at my stop he asked if he could see my report card. I showed it to him upon which he said, "Hey, those are too bad."
It made me feel better as I walked down the road until I thought...."He doesn't think there too bad...wait...he's driving a bus."
No offense to bus drivers.
B
dang it, should be "Hey, those AREN'T too bad."
B
Again
Looove the bathroom. Good work.
Our Jr. High bus driver was CRAZY! We swore the bus was going to tip over when he went around the the on-ramp circle. It never did.
There were these rebellious boys who sat at the back of the bus and played Guns N Roses really loud on their 'boom boxes'. One day one of them urinated on the floor of the bus and it all ran down to the front. We had to lift up our feet the entire ride.
Another time, one of these boys poured his hot chocolate out the window onto some ladies white BMW. She came and got him off the bus and took him away in her car. The bus driver said NOTHING! We were shocked that someone could be kidnapped right before our eyes. He showed up at school later that day and reported that she took him home, had him clean the car, hung out with him, fed him breakfast and then drove him to school. He said she was cool. WHAT?!
Good memories!
Love the bathroom!
Oh my goodness, that's the same vanity, right? Right?? I was thinking that you put in a new little, perfectly-fitting, black vanity in place of that 80's thing. But no...it's the same one, isn't it? Isn't it? You are amazing! That bathroom rocks! (And who is that model in the mirror? You've got style, sister!)
I love everyone's bus stories. I actually have fond memories of the bus, seeing as how it was a "social" situation.
I did, however, overhear many "naughty" words when I sat towards the back, and had to speculate for years at their meanings, because of course I was too prudish to ask.
Bathroom is darling...even down to the matching soap!!
Bus memories?!? We walked to school, in the snow, uphill both ways! I must be really old because I don't remember any bus rides other than the rare field trip and we usually walked on those too.
I do remember for a brief period we did ride the bus to and from school in Illinois, but my memories of that are of waiting for the bus in sub-zero temperature (literally) and having my eyelashes and nose hair freeze.
I think I had the same "John the Bus Driver". He had a lot of rules. His number one rule was NO FEET IN THE ISLE. It made the perfect ramp to role gobstoppers down. When we'd come to a stop they'd all hit the door up front and he'd furiously look in the mirror to try to figure out who did it.
Actually, Mark said... When I was in Primary School (Elementary) my morning bus stop was one of the last pickups, leaving me, my sisters and neighbors all standing in the isle and very susceptible to the torturous practice of "dacking" (getting your pants pulled down). There were some kids who were very accomplished at this skill and could get everything down in one quick swipe.... After this happening to me once I made the effort to walk a kilometer or so every morning to the first bus pickup and ensure I had a seat...
I also rode the bus from kindergarten through my senior year. At first I found it a novelty. Sitting with friends, giggling, gossiping, and hoping that the boy you like would come and take the empty seat next to you. This novelty wore off after the 4th grade when boys really just did not want anything to do with girls. No so much fun after that......
And then I became an athlete. I joined sports in Jr. High and High School. During Volleyball and Basketball seasons we rode the team bus. My coach could not stand the noises and all of the "as if" comments from the cheerleaders so she made them had to find their ride to the games. (hilarious!) We would all have our own seats, listening to our walkmans and mentally preparing for the big game coming up. It was some of my favorite times. The ride home however could go one of two ways. One: We would either celebrate with all the windows down, screaming at the cars passing by, and even having junk food and donuts to celebrate our win (which was off limits during the week). Two: We would sit solemly on our own bench. Head down, no speaking at all and think about what we could have done better to win the game that had just been played. If we lost, we dreaded practice the next day because we knew that it would be (insert substitute word here)!!! But if we won we would enjoy the next day of practice by scrimmaging the JV teams.
The bus brings great memories... even if they were, at times, rough moments.
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