"Space" Shuttle
So the other day, I was in an accident. Nothing big or deadly, just stupid. I was meeting Larry for lunch and took the Metro to his office. Upon arriving, I hopped on the shuttle that takes people back and forth to his office complex. It’s one of the courtesy things the building management provides.
During the day, there aren’t many people who use these services. As I boarded, I was surprised to find two other people already in seats. Knowing I had five minutes before we’d depart, I settled into the book that I started on the metro. The driver however had other plans as we listened to Missy Elliott rant loudly about some man who had wronged her.
I watched the driver as she began preparations for our trip to the office. She looked displaced in the cab of this shuttle; like a child driving in a monster truck rally. With the music blaring, she took off; grasping the steering wheel as if she were hugging a giant Sequoia tree.
We moved ten feet and then BAM! We three passengers fell to the floor. I hit the head rest in front me, however the woman in the front seat banged her head into the metal pole besides the door frame. As we made it back into our seats, the young woman in front was dabbing blood from her forehead.
Our driver screamed over Missy; “Wow, what was that?”
The guy behind me shouted back, “Well, for starters, I’d say you hit something. Can you turn down the music?” Missy rebuffed her ex-beau in silence.
The driver continued to mull over what might have caused her vehicle to go from 10 to 0 miles an hour in four seconds as we checked on each other’s injuries. I had a welt on the nose and the gentleman in the rear was unscathed. Unfortunately, the poor woman was using napkins to blot her bleeding forehead.
The driver got out and then instantly climbed back in as if the asphalt were teaming with alligators. “That’s weird,” she said. “It was like we hit something but I don’t see a car anywhere.”
I looked over. “Yeah that is weird, but you did know that you can hit other things besides cars, right?”
“Really?”
I realized that if I suddenly lost my job, I knew of one that had little employment requirements.
The guy and I looked out the window and instantly discovered our dilemma. “You hit a parking meter,” he said.
She climbed back out and shook her head, “I did not nope.” (Yeah, that’s exactly how she said it.)
With utter frustration, I packed my things and look at my fellow passengers. “I’m just going to walk over.”
The guy in the back looked alarmed. “You can’t leave the scene of an accident.”
“Listen McGruff, I didn’t cause the accident. Besides, I’m freaking hungry and they are ordering Thai food.”
I got out and walked around the shuttle bus. There, right under the left front wheel, was a pole with a parking meter sticking up through the frame. The meter was slightly hanging off to the side. The driver then bent down and picked up a few quarters that had fallen out. She looked at me and smiled.
“Looks like it’s your lucky day,” I said and went off to get my Pad-Ke-Mao.
During the day, there aren’t many people who use these services. As I boarded, I was surprised to find two other people already in seats. Knowing I had five minutes before we’d depart, I settled into the book that I started on the metro. The driver however had other plans as we listened to Missy Elliott rant loudly about some man who had wronged her.
I watched the driver as she began preparations for our trip to the office. She looked displaced in the cab of this shuttle; like a child driving in a monster truck rally. With the music blaring, she took off; grasping the steering wheel as if she were hugging a giant Sequoia tree.
We moved ten feet and then BAM! We three passengers fell to the floor. I hit the head rest in front me, however the woman in the front seat banged her head into the metal pole besides the door frame. As we made it back into our seats, the young woman in front was dabbing blood from her forehead.
Our driver screamed over Missy; “Wow, what was that?”
The guy behind me shouted back, “Well, for starters, I’d say you hit something. Can you turn down the music?” Missy rebuffed her ex-beau in silence.
The driver continued to mull over what might have caused her vehicle to go from 10 to 0 miles an hour in four seconds as we checked on each other’s injuries. I had a welt on the nose and the gentleman in the rear was unscathed. Unfortunately, the poor woman was using napkins to blot her bleeding forehead.
The driver got out and then instantly climbed back in as if the asphalt were teaming with alligators. “That’s weird,” she said. “It was like we hit something but I don’t see a car anywhere.”
I looked over. “Yeah that is weird, but you did know that you can hit other things besides cars, right?”
“Really?”
I realized that if I suddenly lost my job, I knew of one that had little employment requirements.
The guy and I looked out the window and instantly discovered our dilemma. “You hit a parking meter,” he said.
She climbed back out and shook her head, “I did not nope.” (Yeah, that’s exactly how she said it.)
With utter frustration, I packed my things and look at my fellow passengers. “I’m just going to walk over.”
The guy in the back looked alarmed. “You can’t leave the scene of an accident.”
“Listen McGruff, I didn’t cause the accident. Besides, I’m freaking hungry and they are ordering Thai food.”
I got out and walked around the shuttle bus. There, right under the left front wheel, was a pole with a parking meter sticking up through the frame. The meter was slightly hanging off to the side. The driver then bent down and picked up a few quarters that had fallen out. She looked at me and smiled.
“Looks like it’s your lucky day,” I said and went off to get my Pad-Ke-Mao.
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