Confessions of a Bus Rider

Relying on public transportation saves us about £3,000 a year since the petrol and car insurance are so highly priced.  We're still at the point in our lives where we need to pick the most inexpensive option over time-saving options.  For instance, I ride on two buses to get to work everyday for a total of an hour and a half when it should take 45 minutes to get there by car.  Because of this extra free time on my hands, I turned to reading my way through the Preston library.

I found out quickly that I'm not an average bus rider--mainly because I cannot tolerate any nonsense or bullying from children or teenagers.  In fact, I've become a little public transport vigilante in my own right.  The first occurrence of this came when I was merely standing, staring in the direction from where the bus was to arrive, holding my backpack, and frankly minding my own business.  A group of ten teenagers gathered and most of the time, they are quite annoying and sometimes destructive to public property, but as long as they leave me alone, I stay out of their world.  One day, however, two boys chose to mock me and probably thought that since they usually rule the streets and people are too afraid to confront them, that I would just stand idly by and be bullied by them.  Well, they were wrong.  I stood up for myself and for the days following, the kids stayed on the other side of the street until the bus was in sight.  And to this day, I have not seen those two particular boys again.

Another major incident came when I witnessed my first criminal act.  I really should not go into too much detail for the safety of myself, but I'll tell you what I can.  This crime did not happen on the bus--thank goodness!--but I witnessed the attack from the bus while we waited at a stop light.  Immediately, I called the police and then went into the police station a week later to tell my account of the events.  Basically, a gang of boys attacked another boy with a weapon, and then destroyed his bicycle after he fled the scene.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing, especially since it was in the middle of the afternoon toward the centre of town.  But, it was Preston afterall.  What was more shocking was that I was watching this happen with 20 other bus riders, but I was the only one with my phone out, calling the police department.  It's a hard-knock life in Preston, apparently.  The good news is that they caught all four gang members and they are set to face the judge in April.  I was ordered by the court to appear to give my witness statement, but I've arranged it so that the accused will not be able to see my face.

And then began the saga of the Walton-le-Dale teenagers.  These students are from a high school in Preston and board the bus two stops after me every day after school.  Like I mentioned before, if the kids do not bother me, then I ignore them and continue to read my library book.  But, their behaviour became too much one day when they were shouting an inappropriate anatomy word from the back of the bus as loud as they could.  I looked around to see the faces and reactions of the British people--and they were just as flustered as me.  After glances and glares, with no let-up, I decided to tell them to 'be quiet.'  The teenagers then decided to say their chosen word at a medium-volume that could still be heard by all.  At that point, one of them said to me, "There, now we're being quiet."  To which I responded, "Actually, you're not being quiet at all and none of us want to hear your loud mouths."  This shocked them into silence for a few more days on the bus.

Then, as the shock wore off, these kids went back to their old ways.  On this day, they gathered at the front of the bus and used it as their stage for a display of their horrible behaviour.  This is what was on display:  swinging like monkeys on the ceiling handles, cursing, running around, ridiculously loud volume of inappropriate conversations, and repeatedly knocking into a pram.  I kept my head down this time and kept reading since I felt my efforts were already used on these kids and they weren't going to change for me, but still stole glances of other bus riders to see their reactions.  The mother of the baby in the pram was visibly angry and a man beside me was looking around to catch others' attention, gesturing toward the action in the front of the bus.  Why didn't anyone speak up for themselves?  At school, I was warned that the teenagers might have knives and will attack if provoked.  If that's how this country has arrived in this predicament of children running the public transportation system and sidewalks, then a change has got to come.  Unlucky for the teens this day was that a bus driver boarded the bus in order to ride to the station for his upcoming shift.  He sat across the aisle from me and of course, the students acted like perfect angels when they saw him get on the bus.  I turned to him and said, "I wish you rode the bus with us every day," then proceeded to tell him everything that I saw.  Suddenly, three other passengers found their voice and piped up in our mini-intervention.  At the end of this, I asked, "What can we do if they act like this again?"  He told me that as soon as we complain to the bus driver, they will be kicked off the bus.  All of our conversation was heard by the teenagers and the bus driver who rode with us even told them that if they get removed from the bus, they will have to start taking a taxi to school.

Since that day in November, there has been no misbehaviour from that group--and not one of them has threatened my life with a knife.  The only thing I fear in this world is God and I will always stick up for what is right in whatever way I can.  This does cause Lee some worry, but if I think I can handle a situation, then I will; otherwise, I will phone the police.  There is clearly a culture shock, seeing people let children say and do whatever they please and not speaking up--this is not Ashland, where it takes a village.  But, what I admired about that day was that as soon as someone opened the floodgates, the complaints came rushing.  Also, the teens were mortified that so many people were reporting their vile behaviour which showed remorse and a small sign of a conscience, which I didn't think existed in them.

Some days, these students will not board the bus if they see that I'm on.  When they do board and I'm on the bus, they act appropriately and even politely to other passengers, offering their seats to older riders.

One more sentimental story comes of an elderly gentleman who used to sit across from me every day.  Our favourite seats were always ready for us because we boarded from the Preston bus station.  Coincidentally, we rode the same bus in the mornings and in the evenings.  He even got off of the bus in Birkdale, about four stops before me.  We'd exchange looks when people were talking too loudly on their mobile phones or a herd of prams were blocking the aisle, but we never spoke.  I haven't seen this man in a little over a month and I'm not sure what happened to him, but I hope he is okay.

If you see Sammie Miles Davis, Jr. and Bella, give them my love.