Tuesday, January 24, 2012


Today I was waiting for the 817 at UVU.  I don't go to UVU.  But sometimes I catch the 817 from there.  It's a long story.  Ask me sometime.  Okay, it's not a long story.  But you can still ask me sometime.

When the 817 pulled up, it said "817 Southbound."  This was odd, because it was an 817 Northbound.  A number of people registered this incongruity.  Most said nothing about it and calmly began boarding the bus in considerable numbers.  A few people expressed their concern, however, that this might actually be an 817 Southbound, and hung back.  I sympathize with this concern; few feelings are more sinking than the feeling you get when you realize you just got on a bus going the wrong direction.

Some of the passengers who were calmly boarding reassured the passengers who were hanging back that this had to be the 817 Northbound, since it had stopped at the Northbound stop.  "If it were Southbound, it would be stopping on the other side of the street," and the like.

(At this point I could have pointed out that all the buses on the North side of the street at UVU are Northbound EXCEPT the 831, which stops at the Northbound stop on its way South, and vice versa.  But as people who are eight-seventeeners do not also tend to be eight-thirty-wunners, and as this would have confused the poor souls further, I forbore.)

A few passengers were still undeterred from their hanging back despite the assurances of those who were apparently willing to risk boarding the bus despite its header being wrong, uttering such things as "I dunno, I don't want to chance it."  They never did get on, even after the sign was fixed.

(At this point, I could have pointed out to these dear people that there was no way in fat Hades that the bus in front of them was an 817 Southbound, since the 817 only runs Southbound in the mornings and Northbound in the afternoons.  But as they had not listened to the reasoned arguments of those who had tried to convince them up to this point, and as this would have confused the poor souls further, I forbore.)

"Hey!  Who  you callin' fat?"

Ah, well.  They had to wait an extra forty minutes.  It didn't kill them, I suppose.  Unless the next bus also said "817 Southbound" . . .

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