Bus stop

So a series of odd communications and a couple of decisions later, my friend and I are finally on our way into town. Aforementioned activities have us running late to get the 7:30 bus. As we approach the bus stop we can see that it's already there and people are boarding.

Pulse quickening decisions are made. "I'll drop you off. You get on and I'll park the car and run across the street to get the bus as it comes around. Tell 'em I'm on the way," I direct. Fumbling about, stopping in traffic, the plan begins.

He's out, I race to the parking lot and jump out for the run across rush hour traffic to the other side of the street. Today it's snowing and my old felt pack boot drag down feet none-to-nimble anyway. But I make it.

Return trip end of day. We're both on without drama and sitting there visiting away the time. This is an express bus making a few stops in town before heading out. We ride. The bus stops. I get off, my friend on my heals.

But wait. This isn't right I think, looking around. Huh? The people in the bus are looking out the windows at us laughing. I don't know why the bus stopped there but it wasn't the regular stop. I look at the driver. "You want to get back on?" he asks.

We reboard. Two blocks later we at the right stop. "We're like some kind of stand up comic routine," my friend says. Indeed, everyone on the bus had a chuckle for the day.