NaNoWriMo – Day 13 (11/13/2005)
Dan
It’s been a long shift … I’m beat and looking forward to getting off this damn bus and into my nice warm bed. Nobody to jump into it with, unfortunately, but that’s nothing new. Bus drivers aren’t the most in demand type of guy, I guess. Just gotta finish this loop one more time—three more stops to go—and then I’m done. That’s one of the nice perks of starting a shift at five o’clock in the morning I suppose … I’m done by noon.
The guy standing at the Well Street stop looks really familiar; I think I dropped him off at this exact spot earlier this morning. I pull up and come to a stop, swinging the door open as I come into position at the curb. He steps on and reaches into his pocket as I shut the door behind him and start to pull away from the curb.
“Here you go,” he says, flipping his wallet open to his transit pass. I notice that the picture looks a little better than he does right now … and that’s not saying much as it’s a pretty awful photograph.
“Thanks,” I murmur, not really caring. He could have shown me his daughter’s pass for the zoo and I would have let him ride. No need to create any drama this close to the end of my shift. I just wanna get through the next two stops and be on my way. ‘Another day, another dollar,’ as they say.
“How’s your day been so far?” he asks, sitting down in the front seat.
“Not bad,” I tell him. “Just about to finish my shift, so it’s fixing to be a lot better, if you know what I mean. How about you?”
“Just quit my job. Did it about thirty seconds before they canned me. I’ve had better mornings.”
“Shit, no doubt. What’d they get you for?”
“Come again?”
“Why were they going to fire you? What’d you do?”
“I didn’t do anything wrong, at least not that I know of. I was there for over ten years and never had a black mark on my file. No official warnings or anything like that. I think I was starting to earn too much money, but who knows. As soon as I realised they were going to can me, I took matters into my own hands.”
“Caused a big scene, did you? Go down in a blaze of glory, and all that?”
“Haha, I guess you could say that, yea. I think I might have got one of the girls who works there fired too. I asked her to help me pack up my stuff and they might think that she is friends with me. Truth is, I just met her for the first time today.”
“Well, you know what they say. ‘Can’t take the heat, better get out of the kitchen.’ If your bosses are shitheads like that then she don’t wanna be working there anyway. At least not for long.”
“Yea, well, that should be up to her to decide.”
“No sense crying over spilt milk,” I tell him as we pull up to my second to last stop for the day.
“I guess not.”
“So what’cha got planned for the rest of the day? I guess you gotta go home and tell your old lady and stuff, hey?”
“She’ll be at work still. There’s no way I’m going over there. I’ll have to wait until she gets home from work. I guess I’ve got a few hours to kill.”
“What do you say I buy you a beer? You just quit your job, man, let’s celebrate!”
“I don’t know. I should probably just go home and wait for Vanessa.”
“Do you hear yourself?” I ask him. “It’s no wonder you were gonna get your ass fired, you got no backbone man! ‘I should just go home and wait for Vanessa.’ Shit. You gotta do what’s right for you, my friend. You can’t let nobody talk you into anything or tell you that you gotta do something their way. Now let’s go and buy you a beer man. Everybody deserves to have a beer in the afternoon when they quit their job. It should be a law or something.”
“Well, okay,” he says. Damn right it’s ‘okay.’ “I guess I could join you for one or two.”
“Now he’s talking two!” I say, a little more loudly than I should. Luckily there aren’t that many people on the bus at this time of day. The work crowd is already on the job and lunch break is just about to start. “Well I’ll be damned if you didn’t take my advice straight to heart! Now yer telling me what to do!”
He just smiles as we pull up to the final stop of the day and there’s my replacement, waiting at the curb just like he always is. I throw the doors open as we come to a stop, put the bus in park and quickly gather up all my things. I motion to the new guy to follow me off the bus. “I know a great place right around here,” I tell him.
“What’s the word, Dan-O?” Rick calls from the curb. “How’s the shift this morning?”
“Pretty good, Ricky. No real trouble to speak of … been a quiet morning.”
“Let’s hope it’s a quiet afternoon then too.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I agree. “Or rather, we’ll drink to that.” I turn and give the new guy a wink. “What’s yer name, anyway buddy?” I ask him.
“Simon,” he says, reaching out his hand, which I take and pump a few times.
“Dan,” I say grinning. “Good to meet’cha Simon.”
Turning back to Rick, who is just settling his gear into place in the cab of the bus, I say goodbye. “All right buddy. Take ‘er easy right? Same bat-time, same bat-channel and all that good shit.”
“Later bud. We still on for poker on the weekend?”
“You got it. See you tomorrow.”
“See ya.” And with that he shuts the door, puts the bus in gear and pulls away from the curb. Just one of the several hundred times he’s going to have to do that today, by the time his shift is over. And one of thousands in his lifetime. Thinking about it, I realise I’m the same boat. Now I really do need a drink or two.
“Let’s get a cold one in us, boy. What’d you say your name was again? Simon, right?”
“Yea, Simon.”
“Dan,” I say, pointing to my chest. “In case your memory’s as shot as mine is.” I give a big laugh, pound him on the back once or twice and we’re off to Sandy’s Pub, just around the corner.
At night, Sandy’s can be a pretty busy place, what with all the drivers getting off shift at the same time. But at noontime, it’s almost completely dead, leaving the place empty for me and Simon to have a few. Maybe we’ll shoot a game or two of pool while we’re at it. As we come up to the bar I see Mickey Stiles standing out front talking with another driver I don’t recognize. Mickey has been driving buses longer than anyone else I know … and he’ll be the first to remind you if you try and forget it, too. I also owe him five hundred bucks that I don’t have.
“You go on in,” I tell Simon. “I’ll meet you there in a sec. I just gotta have a chat with this here fella about some work business.”
Mickey’s seen me and it’s a good thing he can tell I’ve sent Simon in ahead of me, or there’d be hell to pay. He knows I’m a good guy—I’m not trying to dodge him on the money, I just don’t have it right now.
“All right. I’ll see you inside.”
“Yea, just gimme five minutes.”
“Right.”
Today’s word count: 1330
Cumulative word count: 20,042
It’s been a long shift … I’m beat and looking forward to getting off this damn bus and into my nice warm bed. Nobody to jump into it with, unfortunately, but that’s nothing new. Bus drivers aren’t the most in demand type of guy, I guess. Just gotta finish this loop one more time—three more stops to go—and then I’m done. That’s one of the nice perks of starting a shift at five o’clock in the morning I suppose … I’m done by noon.
The guy standing at the Well Street stop looks really familiar; I think I dropped him off at this exact spot earlier this morning. I pull up and come to a stop, swinging the door open as I come into position at the curb. He steps on and reaches into his pocket as I shut the door behind him and start to pull away from the curb.
“Here you go,” he says, flipping his wallet open to his transit pass. I notice that the picture looks a little better than he does right now … and that’s not saying much as it’s a pretty awful photograph.
“Thanks,” I murmur, not really caring. He could have shown me his daughter’s pass for the zoo and I would have let him ride. No need to create any drama this close to the end of my shift. I just wanna get through the next two stops and be on my way. ‘Another day, another dollar,’ as they say.
“How’s your day been so far?” he asks, sitting down in the front seat.
“Not bad,” I tell him. “Just about to finish my shift, so it’s fixing to be a lot better, if you know what I mean. How about you?”
“Just quit my job. Did it about thirty seconds before they canned me. I’ve had better mornings.”
“Shit, no doubt. What’d they get you for?”
“Come again?”
“Why were they going to fire you? What’d you do?”
“I didn’t do anything wrong, at least not that I know of. I was there for over ten years and never had a black mark on my file. No official warnings or anything like that. I think I was starting to earn too much money, but who knows. As soon as I realised they were going to can me, I took matters into my own hands.”
“Caused a big scene, did you? Go down in a blaze of glory, and all that?”
“Haha, I guess you could say that, yea. I think I might have got one of the girls who works there fired too. I asked her to help me pack up my stuff and they might think that she is friends with me. Truth is, I just met her for the first time today.”
“Well, you know what they say. ‘Can’t take the heat, better get out of the kitchen.’ If your bosses are shitheads like that then she don’t wanna be working there anyway. At least not for long.”
“Yea, well, that should be up to her to decide.”
“No sense crying over spilt milk,” I tell him as we pull up to my second to last stop for the day.
“I guess not.”
“So what’cha got planned for the rest of the day? I guess you gotta go home and tell your old lady and stuff, hey?”
“She’ll be at work still. There’s no way I’m going over there. I’ll have to wait until she gets home from work. I guess I’ve got a few hours to kill.”
“What do you say I buy you a beer? You just quit your job, man, let’s celebrate!”
“I don’t know. I should probably just go home and wait for Vanessa.”
“Do you hear yourself?” I ask him. “It’s no wonder you were gonna get your ass fired, you got no backbone man! ‘I should just go home and wait for Vanessa.’ Shit. You gotta do what’s right for you, my friend. You can’t let nobody talk you into anything or tell you that you gotta do something their way. Now let’s go and buy you a beer man. Everybody deserves to have a beer in the afternoon when they quit their job. It should be a law or something.”
“Well, okay,” he says. Damn right it’s ‘okay.’ “I guess I could join you for one or two.”
“Now he’s talking two!” I say, a little more loudly than I should. Luckily there aren’t that many people on the bus at this time of day. The work crowd is already on the job and lunch break is just about to start. “Well I’ll be damned if you didn’t take my advice straight to heart! Now yer telling me what to do!”
He just smiles as we pull up to the final stop of the day and there’s my replacement, waiting at the curb just like he always is. I throw the doors open as we come to a stop, put the bus in park and quickly gather up all my things. I motion to the new guy to follow me off the bus. “I know a great place right around here,” I tell him.
“What’s the word, Dan-O?” Rick calls from the curb. “How’s the shift this morning?”
“Pretty good, Ricky. No real trouble to speak of … been a quiet morning.”
“Let’s hope it’s a quiet afternoon then too.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I agree. “Or rather, we’ll drink to that.” I turn and give the new guy a wink. “What’s yer name, anyway buddy?” I ask him.
“Simon,” he says, reaching out his hand, which I take and pump a few times.
“Dan,” I say grinning. “Good to meet’cha Simon.”
Turning back to Rick, who is just settling his gear into place in the cab of the bus, I say goodbye. “All right buddy. Take ‘er easy right? Same bat-time, same bat-channel and all that good shit.”
“Later bud. We still on for poker on the weekend?”
“You got it. See you tomorrow.”
“See ya.” And with that he shuts the door, puts the bus in gear and pulls away from the curb. Just one of the several hundred times he’s going to have to do that today, by the time his shift is over. And one of thousands in his lifetime. Thinking about it, I realise I’m the same boat. Now I really do need a drink or two.
“Let’s get a cold one in us, boy. What’d you say your name was again? Simon, right?”
“Yea, Simon.”
“Dan,” I say, pointing to my chest. “In case your memory’s as shot as mine is.” I give a big laugh, pound him on the back once or twice and we’re off to Sandy’s Pub, just around the corner.
At night, Sandy’s can be a pretty busy place, what with all the drivers getting off shift at the same time. But at noontime, it’s almost completely dead, leaving the place empty for me and Simon to have a few. Maybe we’ll shoot a game or two of pool while we’re at it. As we come up to the bar I see Mickey Stiles standing out front talking with another driver I don’t recognize. Mickey has been driving buses longer than anyone else I know … and he’ll be the first to remind you if you try and forget it, too. I also owe him five hundred bucks that I don’t have.
“You go on in,” I tell Simon. “I’ll meet you there in a sec. I just gotta have a chat with this here fella about some work business.”
Mickey’s seen me and it’s a good thing he can tell I’ve sent Simon in ahead of me, or there’d be hell to pay. He knows I’m a good guy—I’m not trying to dodge him on the money, I just don’t have it right now.
“All right. I’ll see you inside.”
“Yea, just gimme five minutes.”
“Right.”
Today’s word count: 1330
Cumulative word count: 20,042
posted by Paul Keetch at 3:42 PM
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