"I was a bus driver at my university for three years until I graduated. Here is the highlight reel:
A trashed man around 60 years old tried to get on my bus by banging on the door at a stoplight and then when I refused, repeatedly calling me the 'n' word (I'm white)
One of our bus lines went off campus, so it was really common for silly freshman to board by mistake and get trapped for about 45 minutes. One of these times, it triggered a fight between a couple, and they broke up before we made it back on campus
People would regularly vomit on the bus and not say anything
One of the other bus drivers got pulled over because he flipped off a student that walked out in front of him."
"I was a bus driver for about five years in Alaska. I drove hotel buses and tour buses. Working in the tour industry, you answer a lot of silly questions about your state. Like 'can we see Russia from here?', 'Is that Russia over there?', 'Can you take American money for a tip?' I've come a few feet away from plowing a 54-passenger motorcoach into a moose and a brown bear crossing the highway at the worst times (separate incidents). The brown bear incident forced me to lock up my brakes and freak out a bunch of passengers. So there was that.
And then there is a guy who stole my iPhone 4 when I dropped him off at the airport. This was back in 2010 when this model just came out and it was my first iPhone. Stupidly, I left my phone in the cupholder of the driver area while I went to offload luggage from the back of the bus. Came back, started driving away back to the hotel, reached for my phone and then realized it was not there. Looked all over, internally debated with myself whether I was sure enough to accuse a guest of theft, and ended up calling the airport police. The guest, who was the only one on my bus when I dropped him off, gave me his room number he was checking out of and his airline info. I was able to get his name from the hotel system, pass it on to the police and then got him just about to board his plane. After a short interrogation session by them, he gave up my phone, with a SIM card already thrown away. The Sad part was that he had his 5-year-old kid with him. All in all, it taught me a lesson to not leave my stuff laying around like that."
"I was a bus driver all through college. We regularly drove Tipsy Taxi (dollar shuttle service for wasted college students on Friday and Saturday nights), and we were chartered out to drive fraternity and sorority shuttles. The frats weren't bad, but the sororities were THE WORST. I don't know if it was because I was a girl or what but screw those ladies. Anytime I would give the obligatory 'please keep the bus clean, we have trash bags tied to all the railings (we made them into big beautiful bows) if you feel the need to puke or poop, blah blah blah' I would get death glares. Maybe it's because all their dates were checking out the bus driver, or maybe I just tell myself that, either way, they seriously were some mean, mean girls.
Anyway, I pulled over the bus on the Causeway and threatened to kick every last one of them off, at 2 a.m., in the middle of February. They were being wasted, super loud, nasty, and taking pictures - the picture taking is a huge no-no because if I catch that flash just right in the rear view mirror I will be driving blind. I wouldn't have ACTUALLY kicked them off (I don't think), but if you have ever driven a 40 foot long bus over a large body of water at 2 a.m. in February, in Sacramento, with fog so thick you can only see 10 feet in front of you, you may have given them the boot! The things I saw in the mirror were topless girls (one of the sororities had a reputation for being, uh, heavyset), raunchy threesome type situations, puking, people laying in puke, etc."
"I used to drive a tour bus. Awesome job and I loved most trips. However, the closest I ever came to murder was on a trip with these annoying kids.
Driver #1 picked these brats up in NYC, to be ferried to Pennsylvania or Ohio or somewhere for their summer camp/institutionalization. Driver #2 (me) picked them up somewhere in between to finish the second leg of the trip. There were zero adults for these kids. The one chaperone was just the oldest kid, maybe 16 years old. This is important for later.
What permanently flipped a switch in my head, and I will always see red because of this, is when we were at a rest stop so the little brats could go pee pee. I shut down the bus, they all get out and do their thing inside.
I do a walkaround on the bus to ensure tires are still inflated, no damage and perform a quick engine inspection. Engines are in the back on these. I raise the hood and start inspecting belts, looking for leaks, etc.
I go to check the oil. As I'm pulling the dipstick out, the bus fires up.
Mind you, my hand is inside the engine, twisted around accessory belts, pulleys, etc.
I am incredibly lucky I didn't lose my arm or my life that day. That was the closest I'd ever been to a heart attack, to this day.
As I fling my arm out of the engine bay, wondering in amazement what just happened, it dawns on me.
Like the dark cloud of a thousand locusts, the realization of what just happened enters my mind. One of those stupid kids started my bus. I knew it with the certainty of my soul, as I stood there, 50 feet from the driver's seat, at the back of the bus. Buses don't start themselves. Some. Kid. Started. My. Bus.
I stomp to the front of the bus with murder on my mind. I get in, the bus is half full, they're goofing off as kid's do. I scream at them with the fury of a god just what the heck did they do?
Unfazed, with the bemused coolness of any New Yorker, one of them flippantly says that 'they were warm so they started the air conditioner,' which of course means they started the bus.
This nitwit, maybe 12 years old, saw an ignition key and just fired it right up.
I threw that little brat straight off the bus. We sat there for over an hour while the chaperone tried to talk me into letting him back on. They got their parents on the phone, they got my boss on the phone, I wasn't budging. The kid almost killed me. Literally.
After a solid hour, I began to cool down. I genuinely considered walking off the job that day and calling a taxi. But eventually, I ended up letting the brat back on, but he sat front row, by himself. The TVs on the bus (which they loved to death because they can't watch TV normally), stayed off the rest of the trip. It was the most silent bus trip (for kids) to their destination I've ever seen.
My boss, who normally loved to yell and carry on, stayed well clear of me when I returned to the yard."
"A school bus I was on when I was younger:
I might have been a 120-lb freshman in high school. There was a senior kid, Chris, who was nearly seven feet tall and weighed 300 lbs. A shy tuba player who never would say a word. He sat away from everyone.
Two juniors who were complete idiots sat in the back of the bus. Always gave the bus driver problems. They were prototypical bullies who just discovered what a gym was and how to lift weights.
They pestered the gentle giant, and he would never respond. After a whole year of torment, the bullies didn't get satisfaction from just making fun of him with their words, they devised a new plan. They were going to 'pants' him on the last day of school right before he got off the bus.
The last day of school came around, and Chris got up from his seat and walked down the middle alley. One of the bullies quickly went behind him, while the other watched, and right before Chris was to turn to go down the stairs, the bully pants him.
Instead of pulling his pants up immediately, Chris pushed the bully into the seat cubicle, pulled his pants up, and whaled on him for what felt like 30 seconds. After the bully was crying and begging him to stop, Chris turned around and got off the bus.
The bus driver didn't do anything. I was the last one off the bus, and when I got up there, all she said was 'It was about time.'"
"My poor bus driver Sammy.
When I was a sophomore in high school, I was on a semester-long program in Israel, where we would take classes and then go on field trips every week. Our bus driver was a man named Sammy, who didn't speak any English, so he communicated with us via high fives.
One day, we were driving through the Judean Hills, which is a lot of up and down. One girl started to get queasy and threw up in the aisle of the bus. So when the bus went up a hill, the vomit sloshed to the back of the bus. And when the bus when down a hill, it went back to the front. The smell and the movement caused other people to get sick. In total, probably about 10 or 12 people puked, creating a river of vomit, flowing from the front of the bus to the back.
We had to climb over the seats to get out of the bus, and poor Sammy looked too sad. No high fives were given that day."
"An elderly woman stood up, let out an audible sigh of relief, and drenched the floor of the bus with a sea of piss and liquid diarrhea. She proceeded to sit back down as if nothing had happened. There have been PLENTY of defecation/urination stories, but this one stands out most in my memory."
"I'm a special needs bus attendant, but I have a ton of disgusting, funny stories. My old bus run was for severely low functioning but highly physically capable kids aged 10-21 years old. These kids were really sweet until they got mad and smashed my head against a window or something else painful. My favorite kid, let's call him Jon, was a devious, brilliant, huge pain in my rear. It was pajama day at school, and Jon (who is about 12 but he's about 5 foot two inches and at least 120 pounds) is wearing a dinosaur onesie. While another child needed my attention (he was throwing a fit and I needed to calm him down because he was throwing stuff at the driver and we were on a major highway), Jon completely removed his onesie and throws it out the window. I calm down the other child and go to check on Jon, who is usually not this well behaved quiet, and I was going over to give him a treat for being so good only to find him completely naked and coloring his 'thing' a rainbow of colors from the markers in his backpack. Then he starts to 'self-soothe' and spreads the 'remains' all over the back of the seat. He's sitting quietly and staying in his seat, so I just left him there until we got to school and let the teachers deal with it."
"So this wasn't me but my husband's story. He used to drive a drum corps group across the United States for three months over the summer, with two other buses/drivers. They would drive at night while the kids were asleep, and on their off days, they would still stay up nights to keep their schedule.
Obviously, they don't have a car, so anything they wanted to do on their downtime they would have to take a bus. One night in the middle of nowhere (Texas or Louisiana, I think) my husband and the two other drivers are hungry and go find a 24-hour dinner. They find a Denny's or Wafflehouse or crummy place like that that's open. Now, with a bus, you can't just pull into the lot unless they have bus parking, you normally have to pull around a bit to find a place to park. It took them a few minutes to finally park the bus and go inside. The restaurant had large glass windows so the staff inside could see that a bus had just pulled up and parked.
When they walk in the door of the restaurant, the first thing they saw was a busboy frantically filling 40 glasses of water like there was no tomorrow. Then the cook rushes out from the back screaming and waving his hands that they couldn't accommodate the people on the bus! The poor jerks thought there were 50 people getting off the bus to eat there at like 2:30 a.m. The looks on their faces when they realized it was just the three drivers were hilarious, according to my husband. They ended up hanging out there for awhile and leaving a big tip.
Also, I know they saw all kinds of weird freaking people at Walmart all over the country. When you have nothing to do in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere, you go to Walmart!"
"Not a bus driver, but a passenger on the bus.
The bus driver blew past a stop where someone was waiting for him, and the guy managed to catch up and get on at the next stop. He refused to pay though because the bus driver refused to acknowledge that he had passed both him and the stop completely. This led to a 10-minute long argument where at one point I got up to offer to pay for the guy so we could just move along as it was 11:30 p.m., and I had just gotten off a double shift and had to work again at 7 a.m. The bus driver then yelled at me to sit down and stop interfering.
So I did. The guy finally decided to get off the bus and wait for the next one. He apologized to us on the bus and then spit on the driver and ran off down the street. The bus driver got off the bus and chased the man for like three blocks. He came back on the bus, shut the doors and basically held us hostage while he called the police. As soon as the police got there, he gave them the absolute worst description of the guy possible that would've led to every black guy in a hoodie getting stopped on their way home, and then told the police officers to arrest me too - because I was 'helping the assailant.'
I got off the bus with the officer - gave him my version of what happened. The officer shook his head and let me back on the bus, he told the driver to take off and they would look for the 'assailant' and the driver refused. 'You bring this guy to me! I will not move until you bring him to me!'
So the other passengers and I all got off the bus and started walking home. About two blocks up (I had 20 more to go) there was an officer interviewing a black kid who had zero to do with anything and wasn't really wearing anything similar to what the guy who spit on the driver had been other than a hoodie. So, I stopped told the officer that it wasn't this kid at all and gave her a much better description of the guy. I started to walk off home again and the officer pulled up next to me in her car and told me to hop in so she could give me a ride home. We chatted about how stupid that whole situation was and how she was glad she could give me a ride home when she saw where I lived - An area in MPLS that doesn't even make the news when there is a triple homicide a block away from my apartments.
I immediately got on the computer and wrote a lengthy complaint about the driver and never saw him on that route again."
"My dad drove public transit buses for Edmonton Transit (ETS) for 35 years. He retired as soon as he could because management was not really connected well to reality. As a rider of the same transit system, I can say I agree.
Anyway, one of the worst ones for him is he's driving his bus through a shifty part of town early in the morning. It was winter so no one is particularly happy to be standing at an Edmonton bus stop. He picks a guy up just outside of a bar. The guy has a sack of change that is large enough to pay for a fare even if it was entirely pennies. He was very likely just playing the video lottery terminals in the bar, apparently, he stunk a bit too.
He comes on the bus and says 'can I get a ride, I don't have a fare.' My dad goes (like usual), 'you have to pay or you don't ride.' Normally ETS is really lax about people paying fares, which is part of their budget problem and part of the social problem with people bumming rides all the time. He points that the guy has a sack of money.
So the guy gets angry about it and mumbles something incoherent about why he doesn't want to use that money. My dad tells him to get off the bus or pay. Buddy smashes my dad in the forehead with his sack of change. My dad jumped up and pinned the guy to the ground outside the bus and sat on him until the transit inspectors and police came to arrest him.
ETS wanted my dad to go back to work the next day. Worker's Compensation said 'hey no' and made them give him two weeks off, including a mandatory psych evaluation, because ETS was being a jerk about pushing him back to work right away. He complained about the general state of not liking his job very much at the end of the psych evaluation and the report from the psychologist 'ended up' taking six weeks to get processed. He ended up getting seven weeks off with pay because management wanted him back on the next day instead of giving him like three days off."
"I worked for a company that owned a double-decker bus. The roof had been removed, so it was open air on the top deck. We didn't use the bus for transportation; we'd use it for promotional events. Put it in parades, go to festivals, things like that. Usually, it was just employees due to insurance, but sometimes we would let the public ride. My favorites:
Two girls making out up top.
Some random woman sticking her tongue in my mouth during Mardi Gras. My girlfriend was not amused.
Two girls standing up on top got swatted by a low-hanging tree branch. Thankfully, the only thing hurt was their pride.
A co-worker making women flash before he'd let them on the bus. Boss put a stop to that eventually.
Got pulled over one time by the police just because they wanted to see the inside and top. Two young cops. They were cool.
When we bought it, it was not a convertible. We had a coworker drive it somewhere he shouldn't. So we used saws, installed a wooden rail cap, and made it one.
Had another coworker attempt to drive it in a tunnel that was about a foot shorter than the bus. Blocked a major city artery for about an hour. The city had a 'talk' with us about that one.
It was an old British bus and nobody in town wanted to work on it. It had a clutch-less manual transmission, ran on a V6 system, and had the ugliest diesel engine you'd ever see. I learned a lot about motors since we did almost all of the maintenance ourselves. We had a metal fabricator make up a towbar since nobody in town was willing to tow it if it broke down. As far as I know, we never had to use it, but there were several times we had to work on it on the side of some highway or road.
Oh, either it didn't have a speedometer or it didn't work. I don't recall. It didn't really matter since top speed was about 35 mph. I hated driving that thing in traffic. Thinking back, I don't remember any gauges working. Had to switch gears based on sound and 'feel.'
I have lots of good memories of that bus, despite all its mechanical faults. It's mystical ability to get women naked was amazing."
"I had lots of bus driver friends as I rode buses a lot as a kid for fun.
My friend was once riding the Q35 bus from Brooklyn to Rockaway Beach in Queens when the bus hit a pothole at 40 mph and the front door came off its hinges and dragged for a bit before the bus operator stopped.
Another time, a guy was waiting for the Q10A super express bus to JFK Airport from the Queens Borough Hall area. He didn't have money for a cab and was directed by a helpful resident to take the Q10A bus instead. So the passenger gets on and asks 'how long does it take?' The driver looks at his watch and replies '15 minutes?' Next thing I know, I'm on a narrow body, 20-year-old bus going 60 mph and spewing a nice cloud of two-stroke diesel exhaust behind me on the Van Wyck. We arrive there a bit ahead of schedule with the driver apologizing 'sorry, would have gotten there quicker, but these buses need a tune-up.'
I was once trying to get to school at 4 a.m. to finish a project. I wait for the bus, the bus shows up at an unscheduled time, and I thought to myself 'is he early or late?' The next thing I know, we're running every red light between my house to my school, making a 40-minute trip into a 20-minute trip
I once had a driver who loved spiting double-parked cars. He would pull close against their back bumper and barely pass them by inches at high speeds. He was chased by a cab who decided to stop in the middle of a street to pick up a fare and was told 'you almost hit me,' to which he replied, 'yeah, but I didn't.'
I was riding home on a bus one time, and the driver was trying to make a right turn but stopped to yield to pedestrians crossing, proceeded to make a turn. 'Crunch!' A dude was busy chatting up a chick on the street and drove into the path of the rear wheels. He tried to blame the driver for turning too soon.
A dude I know was behind the wheel of a brand new bus. He entered the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel, and while admiring how smooth the bus was, he noticed everyone who was chatting was now silent. He realized he was accidentally over the speed limit.
Someone I know was blindly following directions from a buddy while driving a bus. He ended up on a part of the bridge where buses were not permitted. He realized it just as the beams were getting lower and lower. He stopped the bus and made his buddy tell everyone behind him to back off the bridge. The traffic cops at the base of the bridge couldn't have cared less.
Gliding down the road in a nice 40-foot, over the road bus is still one of my favorite feelings."