Tuesday, 20 January 2015

A silent Whoopeee

A day of snow, a day of cold and the spectre of a most chilly journey home.  I leave work a tad off schedule with the glum thought I have missed the red bus which links nicely with the yellow that takes me home.  I get to the bridge which overlooks the bus station and leads to the escalator.  My heart sinks a little further, I can see the bus is already pulled to the stop, I have to cross the bridge, go down the escalator and the full length of the bus station.  Whilst I had not anticipated catching this bus, seeing it and missing it..my frustration grows.  

Now on occasion a hopeful attempt to run might be in order, but with snow underfoot and sleet descending it is not safe on either the bridge surface of the tile of the bus station.  So I carry on at a steady place with an Eeyore "figures" towards the stop.  As I get closer and the bus is still there, as I can see the length of the queue waiting to board, I quicken my pace, Piglet hopeful.  As I get on the bus I have a contented air which even having to go up to the top deck does not dim.  I settle down to read.

The snow continues to fall and the pace of the bus is diminished in places by the road conditions and the flow of traffic.  Judging when we will reach the transfer point is not possible  until four or five stops before my normal point of disembarking from this bus.  A glance at my watch and I realise the yellow bus will have been and gone, it is normally very on schedule, and the next bus, due in then next few minutes will likely be on time as I am late, or will be very late (it is not a set your watch by time keeper) so my feeling are a bit Rabbit here, pragmatic and practical, and I am in a better place than I may well have been.

At this point I glance out of the window, now it may have been the sway of the bus as we overtook a vehicle and passed it that made me look.  The vehicle we had just passed, the yellow bus, the weather making it run unusually late.  Had I been on the lower deck, with less movement, obscured windows I might not have noticed it. Will we get enough ahead for me to alight from this bus and catch the eye of the driver behind ? 

Down the stairs I go, someone has pushed the bell for the next stop, if I don't get off and try here to make the change the yellow bus is sure to leap frog in front and the chance will be missed.  However, if I chance it and fail, I will have a couple of stops walk in the snow to get the next onward option.   

Off I get, red bus pulls away, yellow is right behind it, I signal, hopeful arm outstretched, he has not seen me, the bus passes, my mood teeters back to that famous donkey.  But wait, the bus is indicating, pulling in just a little past the stop, several quick steps and I am at the doors opening to let me on. 

As I walk calmly to my seat, sit, and settle down for the last bus journey of the day, inside Tigger is bouncing with glee, hands over head in triumph .

  "I got the bus, whoopee! I made the right choice, I win this time". 

 Telling my friend today I am amused at my own reaction, entwined with that amusement lingers a gleeful sense of achievement.