The bus.

This will require a bit of prefacing. I have class Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until 2:30 PM. I take the green line of the metro (subway) from Guy-Concordia to Lionel-Groulx. (You pronounce Groulx "grew".)





When you get off the metro, there is a mad-dash to catch the bus that leads to the west island, since the only real reason to get off at Lionel-Groulx is to catch this bus. The bus is the 211. But, during rush hour, there is also the 221 which is a rush-hour 211. This bus does different things at the end of the route, but the majority of the people on it (myself included) take it to Dorval which is the first stop (even though it can take about 45 minutes) so it doesn't matter which one I take.

When I get off the metro, I go to the street and there is always a huge line, either on the left (for the 211) or the right (the 221). Naturally, you wait in the longer one because that's the one that is coming next. Even if a bus is supposed to be the 211, say, it will change to the 221 if it sees that that line is bigger. Sound confusing? It's really not. Until today.

Scene - 2:35PM. Outside the Lionel-Groulx. Balmy. Overcast. Light rain falling. Otherwise normal day.

Enter fat American with Cubs hat, winded from long walk up the stairs :

I walk out to meet the day. I instantly see 2 things : there are about 100 people waiting for the 211 (this means I'm standing) and the back end of the 221 (JUST missed it). I walk about halfway down the line for the 211 when, like a jackal, the bus drives past us to the now deserted 221 stop. Woah. The driver should have changed to 211. Whatever. Myself and about 20 others jog over to pick up this bus, happy that we won't have to wait. Instead of thinking to myself "don't get on the bus of the person who leaves 100+ people standing in the rain," I thought "YES!!!"

This was, literally, the worst mistake of my life.

As I make the turn onto the bus, I always do two things. Show the bus pass and say "bonjour." The drivers love it. Seriously. It's my little way of giving back. So today is no different. Except that instead of a friendly "bonjour" back, I get a snarl. Like an honest-to-goodness snarl from the bus driver who looks abnormally like Phyllis from The Office -



Hmm. That's odd. So, as fate would have it, I am the penultimate person on this bus and the first of two to be standing. This was odd because I saw like 10 more people behind me jogging over to catch this bus. She literally slammed the door on people in the rain. ODD! Anyways, I should have sat on the floor, because what would take place over the next hour and a half I would wish on no man, woman, or child.

Devil-Phyllis, as I will call her, is quite easily the worst bus driver in the history of the universe. You could ride a camel bareback through a bazaar in Calcutta and not be in as much vehicular danger as I was with Devil-Phyllis at the helm of the Satan-bus. She drives like a drunken teenage girl speeding to a Myspace party. She would accelerate towards a stop sign (it was raining) only to then SLAM on the brakes. She apparently was getting paid by the gallon of gas burned, not hourly.

She was driving a BUS with LIVING HUMANS and doing about 60 MPH on a side street IN THE RAIN.

So that was horrible enough. But then she decided to take a little Devil-Phyllis shortcut. And by Devil-Phyllis shortcut, I mean the longest, most horrible, rain-soaked, brake-slamming, accelerating-to-stop-signs SHITcut of all time. And you are correct if you guessed that SHITcut has a red squiggly line under it. Apparently that isn't in the dictionary.

What I had penciled in my mental daily agenda as a 45 minute jaunt through western Montreal turned into an hour and a half long side street festival of turns and off-balanced attempts to drink my Starbucks.

When we finally arrived at Dorval, my arm was numb from the death-grip I had on the metal bar that saved my life about 80 times. As I looked out at the area where we would be stopping to let myself and the other Dorvalers off at, my heart dropped. School children. Devil-Phyllis would be driving school children home. May God have some sweet, sweet mercy on the 221 Devil-bus. Don't blame those kids for Devil-Phyllis' evil ways.

As I descended the small flight of stairs leading me to solid ground again, I felt like the first person to be negotiated for in a hostage situation. Yes I was glad, but I wouldn't rest until I knew those other souls were delivered home safely. Well I didn't hear anything on the news about Devil-Phyllis' Satan-public transportation vehicle taking anyone with her to hell so I can now rest.

And I missed the next bus because she took so long. I HATE HER!