Dear Sir

Dear Mr. Bus Driver,

To start off, I'd like to say I understand that you're only human, and therefore you make mistakes. So do I! It is with this understanding that I wish to address a couple things with you. The sorts of things I would say on an evaluation form if I were ever asked to do one for you.

Remember yesterday? I sure do! I boarded the bus to find you in a private moment: picking your nose. It was with this knowledge that I (understandably, I think) wanted to avoid touching your fingers when I showed you my bus pass. Yes, the new ones are very shiny. I *am* kind of perplexed that you, being a bus driver would fail to recognize the years's newest bus pass design. Not recognizing it, in fact so much so that you needed to hold it. I was willing to let you, (as long as you didn't touch my fingers) and let go of it, just in time for you to fumble and drop it. I'm still not sure that touching the floor was a worse alternative to booger fingers.

But hey, I understand. Like I said, it was shiny.

The problem I'm finding harder to explain away happened next. You pulled the bus out of the stop, made the two lefts to get on the highway--but due to a lack of attention (?)on your part, you made another left before reaching the proper intersection, and we were treated to another round of "circle the block," thereby wasting precious minutes that could mean making or missing my bus connection in Sac.

The woman in front of me asked me if you were new--no doubt to enable herself to find some modicum of forgiveness in her heart.

Don't worry, I assured her that you were a veteran. I don't mind telling you that I kinda wanted to get off right then and there. After all, if I can't trust you to pay attention on a dark, quiet, residential road, how can I trust you at speeds exceeding 50mph on the highway of death?

That's right, I didn't think so.

'Til next Friday then!

Not-so-affectionately,

Redgirl