If you've ever had to ride the school bus to and from school, then you already know of the crazy things that can happen. Of course, school rules are still enforced on the bus, but by enforced I mean completely overlooked. I'm not sure what it is about the school bus that makes kids think they can do whatever they want, but as soon as those weird sliding doors close kids lose their freaking minds. I'm here today to share some of my craziest stories.

I was in fifth grade, and the bus I rode was driven by the most notorious of bus drivers. Her name was Miss Tecora. She was a loud old black woman with very few teeth, and wild, zany gray hair that stuck up in all directions. I lived so far out in the sticks that I was always the last person on the bus.

I remember one day, me and one other girl were the only ones on the bus. We were sitting at the back, and staring out the windows at the blurred world whizzing by us. Suddenly, we heard a sound that sounded like a cat giving birth. An other-wordly sound that surely was being created by a creature in pain- however, we looked forward, and in the large review mirror, we could plainly see the sound was coming from Miss Tecora. We looked at each other and collapsed into the seat with laughter. She was singing, and in a word, it was terrible. Miss Tecora of course screamed at us to shut up, so we did, but with much effort.

Another time, there was a little boy named Sebastian who was always causing trouble. Every time I read Stephen King's The Green Mile, I picture this boy as the face of King's character, William Wharton (look him up, he's not a good guy). Anyway, this kid did things just to rile up Miss Tecora. One day, out of nowhere, he just screamed the F word for no good reason. Miss Tecora promptly responded by yelling "SEBASTIAN, DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT AGAIN!" Only she didn't say "that". She actually said the F word. My little fifth grade self was so shocked that a school employee would actually say a swear, especially the mother of all swears.

I rode the bus again in eighth grade, but thankfully this time I had another bus driver. Unfortunately, I was still the last person to get off the bus. This was the year I started playing saxophone. I remember I used to sit at the very back of the bus so that I could set my saxophone behind my seat. One day, we were nearing my stop, and there were still a couple of kids to go. I was readying myself to get off, so that when she stopped the bus I could just jump up and get off. I put all my things back into my backpack, and then reached behind the seat to grab my saxophone. I pulled it out into the aisle and held onto the handle so that it wouldn't go anywhere. I checked to make sure everything was ready, and I noticed that my back was still unzipped. I let go of my saxophone to zip the case up, and the bus driver screamed as a dog ran into the road. She slammed on the breaks, and my saxophone flew all the way up the aisle, sliding perfectly along unobscured. I reached out for it all too late, and just watched it as it made its exciting journey, finally crashing into the front of the bus by the driver and bursting open, spilling its contents. I ran to the front to collect my things, and the driver looked at me and said "thank God, I thought that was a kid when I heard it!"

Besides the possibility of your saxophone becoming a bowling ball, sitting at the back of the bus had other downsides. For instance, it's where the bad kids liked to sit. I always managed to have the seat to myself, but hoodlums tended to sit in the seats all around me. Once, the boys sitting in the seat across from me decided to partake in some horrid tom-foolery to pass the time. One boy pulled out a can of Axe Body Spray (remember that stuff?). He took the can and sprayed the putrid cologne onto a spot on his jeans. He just held it there for a long time, creating a dark wet circle on the thigh of his jeans. Then, he pulled out a lighter and lit his pants on fire. The cologne was so concentrated in that one area that the flames shot up excitedly, dancing high and burning bright. I quickly gathered my things and moved to the front of the bus, because I didn't want to die, and especially not on the bus.

Yes, riding the school bus was horrible. I was surrounded by loud, screeching idiots, I was always the last to get off, and sometimes my life was actually in danger. Would I go back and make it so I didn't have to ride the bus? Of course not. The school bus is where some of my best stories come from. I hated it at the time, but I remember it fondly. So if you find yourself stuck on the school bus, don't knock it, you may find yourself making unexpected friends and having some unexpected adventures.