Dear Bus That I Depend On,
I waited for you today for 20 minutes, even though you were scheduled to come much earlier. I was patient, listening to music and contemplating the awful combination that is warm and rainy weather. (How do you even dress for that?) I checked the time over and over again, calculating whether I would be late for class or not. I needed you and you weren't there. You betrayed me.
What I do not appreciate about your inconsistent behavior is that you are supposed to have a consistent schedule. I should see you every 20 minutes, maybe 25 minutes on a slow day. You never keep this promise, though. You either come two minutes after I wake up or an hour and a half later. It's incredibly burdensome.
I have had to take Uber after Uber to get to and from campus on days that you let me down. It's expensive and risky. I could be murdered by my Uber driver but I take this chance for the sake of education. I make light conversation, secretly texting my mother updates on whether I am still alive or not. I would much rather be with you.
You have other people like me that makes me feel safe. I avoid conversations with strangers by putting headphones in and, on the rare occasion when I decide to be social, I pretend that I speak another language. I don't want to talk to people, but I still would prefer the comfort of having a witness if your driver decides to kill me.
I wish you didn't leave me stranded on campus as often as you do. I want to go home, not sit at the bus stop forever. I wait patiently, flipping through pages of reading for a class I am three weeks behind in. I nearly catch up on my homework before you show up.
Why are your seats always so uncomfortable? Why do you stop randomly, letting the driver off for five minutes to smoke a cigarette? Why is it that I can't bring an open drink or snack on board? I'm starving.
Sometimes I find myself worried when we make right turns. You push up onto the curb, making us teeter on the edge for a minute. Cars in turning lanes have to back up. I've even seen you take out a mailbox before. You're destructive.
My point of this letter is to let you know how much you hurt me. I only want to get to school on time and in one piece, but each day is a new battle. Please stop showing up late. Please stop allowing random strangers to talk to me. Please stay on the road. I need you to change. My car wouldn't do this to me, but parking is so expensive on campus that I have no other choice but to be with you. I pay $40 a semester (unwillingly) to rely on you, make it count.
Sincerely yours,
The Bus Club