ENCOUNTERING THE SHABBY DRIVER

ENCOUNTERING THE SHABBY DRIVER

Shengliver’s Note: The writer confronted a shabby driver on the way back home last winter. She relates the experience in a separate entry. You can never imagine the writer should have taken the driver’s coach again.

 

Shengliver, in this entry I’ll tell you an anecdote that you would never believe, but it was a real story that happened to me.

 

Last Saturday I went back to my home in Yunxi. On Sunday afternoon, I had to take a bus back to school. When I got to the bus station, I found there were three buses parked for travellers to board. As you know, a bus cannot depart until all the seats are taken. I went for the second bus. When I got on, I found there were only three seats available. I took one of them and waited. Two minutes later, two women got on the bus, followed by the driver, who was about 40 years ago. After I had a good look at the driver, I was astonished. How the hell could it have come about? He was no other person than the shabby driver who Mary and I confronted at the bus terminal on our way home for the winter vacation. Oh, my God! You can’t imagine what misery I was plunged into at the sight of the driver! As the Chinese saying goes, if you do not hate each other, you won’t meet each other. I regretted having chosen this very bus. Had I known he was the driver, I would have got on another. At this point there was no way I could undo my choice. When the door was closed and the driver came over to collect the fare, I tilted my head so that he could not see my face clearly.

 

On the way to the city, I was afraid that the driver would do something bad to me. He might throw me out. This time I was alone. If I was thrown out, I would be late for school and there would be no friend I could turn to. The reason why I had the thought was that a friend of mine had told me what she had witnessed on her trip. A woman passenger was ejected because she had argued with the driver about the fare. Luckily nothing happened to me on the way. When I got off the bus in town, I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

 

The driver might not have recognised me. He might have forgotten all about our conflict. Whatever the reason, I pray I won’t ever meet this villain again. After all no one desires to meet a mean guy for a second time.

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